Character Confusion
by Alabaster Bootykins
Summary: Harry in love with Ron? Hermione the school tramp? Draco and Ginny as Romeo and Juliet? Snape a huge stoner? A new, drag queen DADA professor? Started out as a parody but became more of a melodrama. Please read and review.
1. Beginnings

This is a fictional story is based on the characters of J.K. Rowling. Certain plotlines are similar but it doesn't stay perfectly on course. It mentions things about book five that you shouldn't read unless you've already read it. Also, there are certain elements of this story that are inappropriate for younger kids, like swearing and adult situations. Oh, and if you have problems with homosexuality, this isn't for you. And... I would really like to read reviews, just out of curiosity. But yes... It is indeed a crazy, crazy story. Enjoy!

Character Confusion

A Mild Parody/Crazy Romance

by the mahvelous Alabaster Bootykins (imaginary pimp)

CHAPTER ONE

"Damn," Harry muttered as his page slipped and a thin red line of blood appeared along his finger. He sucked the finger apprehensively, not wanting to leave his room in fear of another encounter with his Uncle Vernon, or worse, Dudley.

Since the summer before, his relationship with his uncle, aunt and cousin had only gotten worse. They mistrusted him more than ever, and knew full well that he couldn't use magic outside of school, especially after last summer's traumatic experience. Barely feeding him, much less conversing with him, they seemed to doom him into complete solitude until the next term at Hogwarts began, which seemed to be better than the alternative.

"Boy, will you shut that owl up?" his Uncle Vernon shouted, bursting in to the room in a fury. Harry turned to face him, surprised. He hadn't realized Hedwig had begun squeaking while Harry had been lost in his thoughts.

"Sorry," Harry muttered, not really meaning it but very much wishing that Vernon would leave him alone. He went to Hedwig and stroked her neck calmingly.

Uncle Vernon's normally purple face had turned, if possible, an even deeper shad of fushia. "Here your Aunt Petunia and I are trying to sleep a pleasant night through--you know how troubled her sleep is-- and you're in here making a riot!" He paused for a moment, catching his breath. "If that bird goes off again, I'll come in here and wring its neck myself!" he finished, puffing hugely.

"It won't happen again," Harry responded glumly, not awake enough to fight back.

Uncle Vernon seemed satisfied enough with this response, but glared at Harry another moment as if to get his point across before stomping back to his room.

Harry sighed with relief. This summer had been so full already of these awkward confrontations that he was happy to get rid of his uncle even quicker than usual. He gave Hedwig a final pat and sat back on his bed contemplatively.

Only two days until he went back to Hogwarts. That thought was the one that rang through his head, kept him going. He would finally see Hermione and Ron again. He'd received loads of letters from both of them, especially Ron, who'd seemed to have missed him an awful lot. But there was one letter from Ron that meant the most.

_Dear Harry, _(he had written)

_How is your summer going? Hermione and I have missed you dreadfully, and we can't wait to see you at the beginning of our year six! I wonder who the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher will be his year, eh? I suppose whoever it is, they can't be worse than Umbridge. (How's your hand doing, by the way?)_

_Anyway, I can't wait to see you again. I know I say that a lot, but it's true. I really care about you Harry. I mean, we really care about you. Hermione too. I hope you're taking the news about Sirius well, because I'd hate for you to come back differently. Don't change, okay?_

_Well, my mum is calling, but please write back soon. Hearing from you would be brilliant._

_Love, _

_Ron_

Harry had read the letter so many times that he had it practically memorized. It was simple, yet strangely touching. He wrote back, saying:

_Dear Ron,_

_Thanks for the letter. I really miss you too. Hermione as well, of course!_

_Your letter was really touching, you know? I makes me feel better to have to live in this dreadful place when I know I have people who care about me a lot. After all, we are best friends... I'll see you really soon though! We should meet in Diagon Alley again this year for books._

_Harry_

Harry hadn't purposely avoided the topic of Sirius, but it hadn't really come to mind until after he sent the letter. It wasn't that he didn't care about Sirius, didn't miss him. He thought about what happened every day, and the guilt was almost overwhelming. It still felt like Sirius's death was his fault.

But when Harry sat to write the letter, all he could think about was Ron. As his pencil scratched along the paper, he saw Ron's smooth complexion and full lips and clear gray eyes. He heard his familiar, warm voice and smiled softly. but Harry quickly shook his head. These thoughts that were going through his head were crazy. He just missed Ron so much, that was the only explanation.

It explained everything, even the dreams.

Ron sat anxiously with Hermione, slurping his ice cream. It was German chocolate, but he could barely taste it. He couldn't wait to see Harry again. He leaned forward on the table, unconsciously scanning the crowd for Harry's familiar face. He had meant what he had written to Harry about Sirius. If Harry had changed, he didn't know what he'd do...

Hermione giggled, and Ron snapped back to reality. "What?" he demanded rudely, a comic expression of frustration painted onto his face.

She pointed to his chin, where he saw an enormous dribble of ice cream that had collected. "Try swallowing the ice cream," she instructed in that know-it-all way of hers. "It'll work better."

He rolled his eyes. "I can't help it that my mum never taught me proper eating habits," he said simply, eliciting another giggle from Hermione. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. "You're in an awfully good mood today. What've you been doing?" he questioned.

"Nothing. I'm not in an especially good mood," she insisted, eyes narrowing.

"Yes, you are."

"No, I'm not--"

"Yes!"

"No!

"Yes!"

"No!"

"What are you arguing about now?" a familiar and very welcome voice asked dryly.

Ron looked up to see Harry's bright green eyes shining down at the two of them. Not even thinking, he grinned and leapt from his seat, hugging Harry close. It felt so good, and it had been so long since they'd touched, that Ron didn't want to ever let go. He could feel Harry's warm breath on his shoulder, and it sent a shiver down his spine.

But then reality hit. Hard. It wasn't exactly normal for best friends to be clinging to one another. Especially in public. He stepped away awkwardly.

Hermione looked at Ron strangely for a moment before hugging Harry tightly herself. Ron couldn't help noticing the way she pressed her body suggestively against his, her hand creeping down and grabbing his butt. A lot had changed over the summer.

When she finally pulled away, she was smiling hugely and Harry was blushing bright red. Ron felt a pang of jealousy, but quickly concealed it. "So... how was your summer?" Ron asked breathlessly.

"Good overall, except for the whole relatives thing," Harry said sarcastically.

Hermione stayed close to him. "Well, that pretty much constitutes for the whole thing, doesn't it, Harry?" she asked, still grinning and looking him up and down.

"Have you gotten your things yet, Harry?" Ron asked, knowing it was a stupid question. Of course he hadn't.

"Er--no," he replied, a smile playing on his lips. "Shall we go then?"

Hermione pouted slightly. "I can't right now. I'll meet up with you later, though," she said, pecking each of them on the cheek.

"Alright," Ron said. "See you then!"

She smiled and walked away, leaving Harry and Ron alone. Ron couldn't help but feel relieved. Now, finally he could have Harry to himself, and not compete for his attention.

"Let's go." Harry grinned sweetly.

As they walked side by side, Ron had to resist the urge to grab Harry's hand.

Hermione hiked her skirt up a tad more and unbuttoned her blouse a button as she hurried to meet Victor Krum. She knew what he'd look for when he saw her, and she was never one to disappoint. After a few minutes walk, she spotted him at the arranged streetcorner.

He stood there, slightly clubfooted and awkward. His crooked nose had been broken many times, and he had loads of scars all over his body, especially a more jagged one across his right cheek, but he was powerfully built and surprisingly graceful. Plus, he bought her things. Just like all the others.

Victor spotted her and smiled, showing rows of crooked teeth, with some missing. She smiled back, although hers was slightly forced. This whole arrangement was beginning to get old. It could be time for her to find someone else to play with.

"Hi, Babe," he growled as she approached.

She winked. "Hi yourself," she whispered.

His surprisingly strong arm wrapped around her waist and roughly forced her against him. She giggled coyly, her own arms slipping over the back of his neck. Grinning wildly and breathing rotten breath into her face, Victor ungracefully pressed his lips to hers, but she quickly pulled away.

"Victor... Now isn't a good time for this," she said softly, glancing around her anxiously.

He frowned. "Vy not?" His face was sullen; he was used to getting things his way.

"People--" she started, "from my school are... are here, and I don't want them thinking I'm easy or something. Lord knows they already talk about me enough after that awful article by Rita Skeeter..."

He looked kindly into her eyes befor scanning her body. "They vouldn't tink that," he insisted quietly.

"Yes they would. Everyone at Hogwarts is so judgemental about me... I mean, if Ron found out, I would never hear the end of it." She shook her head firmly. "No, not now."

"Vat if I found us some privacy?"

Hermione glanced up, intrigued. "How private?"

He shrugged. "A place nearby. I assure you, no one would find out..."

"Where?"

He smiled. "Over der. That alley," he said softly.

She considered this from a moment. It _did _look fairy clean.... "I've been in worse," she said, mainly to herself. "Okay, you've got a half an hour, but make it worth my time," she directed at him.

Chuckling grotesquely, he grabbed her hand and pulled her deep into the alley. She made no protests.

Hermione was still high from her sexual buzz as she stumbled towards the train. It was a feeling she was almost hooked on, and had become increasingly used to it since she'd changed her look over the summer and started down the long road of sexual experimentation. Or at least that was what her therapist had called it. She straightened her skirt and fumbled with the buttons on her shirt as she walked onto the train and down the thin hallway to the car where she, Harry, and Ron always sat. When she shoved open the door, she found Ron and Harry enveloped in an animate conversation, faces close together, eyes shining. She let out a very unladylike snort and leaned against the doorframe. Both boys instantly straightened up, and Ron's face turned as red as his hair.

"Hey Hermione," Harry coughed, eyes shifting.

"Don't let me interrupt your little rondezvous," she grinned. "I'll just be in the drinking car."

After she left, Harry couldn't keep the grin off his face. "We're going to have to tell her," he said, looking secretively over at Ron.

"She'll freak. She always wanted you, you know." Ron smiled back. "At least between the sheets anyway."

Harry's heart tingled at the sight of Ron's smile, and he reached over and grabbed his best friend's hand, lacing their fingers together. Nothing had ever felt more right. The shrill whistle sounded and the train lurched forward. The Hogwarts Express was on its way.

Professor Severus Snape looked at the clock through the thick haze of smoke that surrounded him. Was it possible that time was actually slowing? It sure as hell seemed like the hands of the clock were ticking slower to him. He took another long drag on the pipe attached to the large bong that sat next to him on the desk and blew out the pink smoke in a giant fluffy ring. It was was a concoction of his own creation: a mixture of woodbayne and essence of chicadee. And it was seriously messing with his head. Almost more than it normally did.

A sudden sharp rapping came at the door, and Snape sat up so suddenly that he nearly fell out of his chair.

"Severus?" Professor McGonagall's shrill voice leaked through the wood. "Why is the door locked?"

As if she didn't already know. He snorted loudly and waved his wand in the air, making the smoke dissipate and the bong disappear. Then he swayed and swaggered over to the door and unlocked it with shaky fingers. McGonagall took one look at her coworker and raised an eyebrow.

"Minerva! Come in, come in." He waved a hand and ushered her in. Dumbledore followed close on her heels. "What can I do you for?" His words slurred together slightly, and he nearly tripped over a chair as he moved across the room.

"There is a new DADA teacher," she said, trying to make her voice neutral, but she couldn't keep the glee from shining through. Snape was much less subtle about it.

"Thank Merlin!" he bellowed. He raised an imaginary mug in the air. "The old hag is gone!" His boisterous gesture threw him off balance slightly, and he tipped precariously.

"Steady, Severous," Dumbledore reached out a bony hand to help him. "We need to screen the new teacher first. One Miss Ginger Snaps, comes from somewhere in the states. South Beach, Florida, I believe."

It was sometime during this briefing that McGonagall noticed the slight nod foreward of Snapes' head, the deepening of his breath. "Inconsiderate ass!" McGonagall muttered to herself as she realized what had just occured.

Dumbledore nodded agreeably. "I think our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher will work out just fine," he croaked.

McGonagall studied him for a moment. "Will you need my help to get out of here?" she asked somewhat condescendingly.

He nodded slowly, his long beard drooping to the floor, and yet somehow he still looked like a child. Slowly he forced his glazed eyes up to her; he was breathing heavily. "Please."

Gritting her teeth and bracing her body for his added weight, she held her arm out dutifully. Ungracefully, Dumbledore gripped her arm with bony, white-knuckled hands and they made their slow, painful way out. It was pretty pathetic, actually, how weak the old man had become. In his prime, he had been the strongest wizard in the world. Even Voldemort had been afraid of him. Now.... he couldn't leave a room without assistance. McGonagall closed the door behind her with a heavy sigh.

Snape slowly opened one eye. He was pretty out of it, even he had to admit, but he had enough of his wits about him to know how to get rid of the old farts when all he wanted was some quality time with his bong. He whispered the spell to make the bong reappear with his wand just dangling from his fingertips. To his half-conscious rage, it didn't work. After his anger dissipated slightly, he leaned back in his chair, beginning to not really care again. He was high enough for his buzz to last a few more hours anyway.

Draco Malfoy sat in his train car, bored and unamused. Crabbe and Goyle sat across from him, but they weren't very entertaining at all. Crabbe was digging in his nose with his forefinger, while Goyle stared blankly into nothingness. Eager to entertain himself somehow, Draco got up and jingled the coins in his pocket. What was the point of being loaded if he didn't spend his money anyway?

"Where you going?" Crabbe grunted, taking his finger out of his nose for the briefest moment.

Draco rolled his eyes. "To get some things to eat," he said exhaustedly. Seeing the cronies beginning to get up to follow him, he jerked his head sharply. "I can do it on my own, thank you very much," he snapped.

Dumbfounded, the two meatheads looked back at him confusedly. Malfoy just snorted to himself and stepped into the hallway. Strolling down the hallway as if he owned the place, he hurried to the sweets cart. He smiled sneeringly at the witch behind the piles of displayed and tossed her a coin nonchalantly, grabbing his favorites in one smooth motion. A chocolate was halfway to his mouth when his breath caught in his throat.

There she was. The girl of his dreams. Silky auburn hair fell to her mid-back over her slender shoulders. Her green eyes shone at him, and she froze in place just as he had. He studied her perfect face, not wanting to look away ever. Time seemed to slow or stop, and it felt to him that they were the only ones on the train. Then, without warning, his brain registered who she was. Ginny Weasley.

_What happened to her over the summer? _Draco asked himself. _What happened to _me _over the summer? _All he wanted to do was to dredge up his former hate for the entire Weasley family, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't seem to do it. Clearing his throat, he made his best attempt towards speaking.

"Hey... Ginny," he spoke, his voice barely a whisper.

She looked surprised and seemed unable to speak for a moment. She too cleared her throat in an attempt to respond. "You're... talking to me? Without insults or... or anything?" She seemed to be in shock.

Malfoy just shook his head. "No... I mean... yes...er... I'm sorry for all the things I said before you know, and I was wrong, and... have I mentioned I'm sorry?"

Ginny's emerald eyes sharpened. "Is this whole...being nice thing a trick? Are you setting me up for some kind of punch line or something?" she questioned fiercely. For some reason her animated anger only made him want her more.

Surprise struck first, and then sadness. He really had been terrible to her, to her family. "No... I'm kind of different now."

"Okay," she responded slowly. "Well, it was nice... uh... talking to you then." She turned and began to walk away, but before he realized what he was doing, Draco had put his hand on her shoulder, stopping her from leaving. "What?" she asked, softly, shyly.

"Don't leave," he said even softer.

Ginny stared at him confusedly for a moment before hearing an all-too-familiar voice behind her, breaking the moment apart.

"Malfoy? What the bloody hell are you doing? Get your hands off her!" Ron Weasley practically screamed behind them.

Oh great. Just what Draco needed. A confrontation with tweedly-dumb and tweedly-dumber. His head snapped to face the gawky features and bright red hair of Ginny's brother. Instead dislike immediately crossed both of the boy's faces, and it only strengthened when Harry Potter came up behind Ron for support. Both sides glared at each other for a few moments before speaking.

"Weasley, Potter," Draco acknowledged, scorn in his voice.

Ron only darkened his steely glare, "I said, take your hand off her, Malfoy," he spat.

Draco reluctantly removed his hand from Ginny's shoulder, and Ginny looked frantically between the two sides. "Please Ron, he was being nice, I swear," she assured him.

But Ron continued to stare."What, you've used a memory charm to brainwash her?" he questioned furiously. "I thought you could sink no lower, but--"

"Please--" Ginny interrupted.

"Ginny, get over here right now. Malfoy's clearly up to no good." Seeing her hesitation, he grabbed her by the arm and dragged her away.

She cast one last wistful glance over her shoulder before being pulled out of sight.


	2. Unrequited love

CHAPTER TWO

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny sat dutifully at the Griffindor table, listening to Professor Dumbledore's long, rambling speech. For politeness only, Harry watched the headmaster as his speech continually digressed, and he couldn't help but feel the tingle and warmth of Ron's shoulder next to him. He glanced at Ron's face. Ron was staring agead, seemingly trying as hard to concentrate as Harry was. But Harry couldn't do it anymore. Not when there were things--people--he cared so much about right next to him.

A bit shyly, he slid his hand onto Ron's knee. Ron, immediately tensed up, looking both shocked and scared. What was Harry doing? Static electricity seemed to zing through the air, and the two boys couldn't keep their eyes off each other. In the far distance they could hear Dumbledore's voice, but it seemed to them to be a memory, an echo. It didn't affect their moment. Ron put one hand on top of Harry's, and lifted the other to touch his face. God, his face was soft. He watched Harry's lips and licked his own, and began to draw closer slowly, timidly, but with a quiet eagerness.

Shakingly, at the same moment, they pressed their lips together, finally giving in to the desire that had built up between them in their years of friendship. Neither ever wanted it to stop, how perfect it was. Harry brought his hand to Ron's neck and pulled himself even closer in their passionate embrace.

Hermione snatched Harry's arm tightly and pulled him away. "What the fuck are you doing?" she screamed. "What, so you guys are together now, huh?"

The entire toom froze and stared at the three teenager, Ron's and Harry's faces flushed and Hermione's thinly tweezed eyebrows drawn together furiously. Many people gaped, but it was Malfoy who began to laugh.

"Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha! That's a good one, Granger!" Seeing her anger now directed at him, he hesitated. "Uh... I mean, Hermione. Sounds like something I would say!" He then launched into another burst of laughter, clutching his stomach painedly.

Everyone stared at him for a moment, then Crabbe and Goyle and some other Slytherins began to laugh nervously as well. Seamus and Dean looked at each other before they started to laugh, and Nevilled, who was thoroughly confused, laughed as though he knew exactly what was so funny. Soon the whole room burst into laughter, even old Dumbledore laughing shakily. The only people who weren't laughing were Cho, who looked as though she was trying very hard not to cry, and Hermione, who was still looking thoroughly pissed off.

When the laughter died down, Dumbledore tried to once again claim the attention of the students. "Yes, that was quite amusing, Hermione. But I'd appreciate slightly cleaner language... After all, our first years have rather delicate ears. Now that we've all had a good laugh, I think I'll leave my announcements for later. You all get settled in now!" He said hoarsely, dismissing them with a wave of his wand and accidentally setting a napkin on fire.

The students filed out hurriedly, some still glancing strangely at Harry and Ron as they left. Cho's eyes spilled over with tears as she ran out without looking back. Hermione, in contrast, grabbed Harry's arm and dragged him away from Ron.

"Where are you taking me?" Harry asked hesitantly, looking wistfully over his shoulder.

Hermione wouldn't face him; she continued pulling him along as they entered the hallway. She opened the door to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom and slammed Harry against the wall harshly.

"What? Moaning Myrtle--" Harry gasped awkwardly.

"She won't be here for at least an hour or two. I told her that her thighs were looking particularly fat," she snapped. Hermione shoved his shoulders against the wall and pressed her hips against his firmly. "What was that in there? What do you think you're doing?" she demanded, breath hot on his face.

Harry gulped. "Er... It was nothing," he choked out. "Me and Ron got bored..."

"So you decided to make out in the middle of Dumbledore's spreech?" she shouted. "Tell me," she continued, lowering her voice. "Do you feel anything right now?" Her hand hand moved up his thigh slowly. "Do you? Are you into guys or what? Just tell me!"

Without waiting for an answer, Hermione kissed him fiercely, her tongue slipping into his mouth. Harry was surprised and didn't know how to respond. He had never thought of Hermione like that, and had only recently considered Ron in that way. The only person he had kissed before today, in face, was Cho.

He pushed away, a bit afraid. "What are you doing?" he mumbled.

"I'm kissing you! Don't you want me to? Don't you want _me?"_ Hermione asked, beginning to get desperate.

"N-not like that," Harry told her. "You're my friend."

She leaned her hips away from him and stared at him coldly. "So what Ron until tonight," she spat bitterly, ice spilling with every syllable.

"I'm sorry," he said softly, beginning to pull away.

Hermione stopped him by reaching her hand onto his shoulder. "Are you... sure about this?" she asked seductively, tugging her skirt upwards.

Harry nodded, afraid.

Her face darkened and she slapped him across the face. The sound resounded through the small bathroom, echoing.

"Fine," she spat and stormed away.

"I don't think she took it very well," Harry muttered as he re-entered the Great Hall.

Ron, who had been waiting and hoping that Harry would come back, brightened at the sound of his voice. "Harry," he gasped, worried. "What happened?"

Harry shook his head. "Pretty much, Hermione was pissed and came on to me in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom," he blurted out. "She knows about us, and probably a lot of people here do too." He looked concerned for a moment. "If people ask, what should we tell them?"

"Um..." Ron stuttered. "We should... uh... tell them the truth I guess. They'll find out eventually."

"What if I'm scared, you know, of what people... will say?"

Ron frowned. "Who cares? It's who we are. You never cared what people thought before..."

"Yeah, well, I care about this!" Harry snapped. He was getting a bit annoyed with Ron now. Couldn't he understand that this issue was bigger than them? "I mean it's really personal; not everyone needs to know."

"What, are you ashamed?" Ron asked exasperatedly.

What? Why would he think that? "No, of course--"

Ron snorted. "Then why? Why then, if you're not ashamed?"

Harry thought about this, but couldn't honestly respond. The truth was, he wasn't altogether sure himself. He just wasn't ready to tell anyone when he'd just discovered his true feelings himself. It was all happening too fast.

"Fine! So you don't want to be seen with me or something?" Ron yelled. "At least I can admit my feelings for you!"

Harry was getting more irritated by the minute; he couldn't bear listening to Ron scream at him anymore. "You know, if you could stop being so insecure--"

"Insecure? You think _I'm _insecure?" Ron puffed up. "You know what? I don't need to deal with this right now, okay? I'll talk to you about this later. For now... I don't know... just pretend that nothing is going on with us at all! That's how you want it anyway!" He turned on his heels and fled the hall in a run.

Harry slumped into a chair and watched as a couple of unrecognizable house elfs brought dishes into the Hogwarts kitchen. What a great start to his sixth year! He'd somehow managed to alienate his two best friends and he hadn't even been there a day. What could happen next? How about all his hair falls out? Yes, that would be the only way the fates would have it. It would be a perfect end to a miserable day.

Nearly Headless Nick began walking towards him, but Harry wouldn't allow it. "Leave me alone, Nick!" he called, depressed. "I just want to be alone," he finished to himself.

Ginny, try as though she might, couldn't concentrate on unpacking for the life of her. Her mind was far, far away at the moment, And, as terrible as it was for her to admit even to herself, it was in the Slytherin House, with a boy who her family hated more than anyone except Voldemort himself. She kept replaying their moments together in her mind. This time she focused on the pout of of his lips when he talked, the steel glint of gray in his eye that for once softened in her presence. That one time, that one moment, change everything between them. She could never again look at him the way she did before.

Glancing down at a framed picture of her family in Egypt, Ginny was once again aware that thinking of Draco Malfoy like that was a crime worse than treason to the rest of her family. But she couldn't help it. The way they'd separated had been so terrible, and so awkward, and she worried that he thought she hated him or something. Because she didn't hate him, far from it. In fact, more than anything, she wanted to be alone with him again.

The door slammed against the dorm wall, breaking Grinny from her thoughts. Hermione stood, face bright red, hair all over the place, skirt hiked up almost all the way up her thigh, looking frighteningly angry.

"Are you okay?" Ginny asked fearfully.

Hermione nodded, fishing a pack of cigarettes out of her bag. "You'll never guess what's going on with Harry and Ron," she sneered, sticking a cigarette in her mouth. "Ya want one?" she offered.

"Uh... no thanks." Ginny watched Hermione light the cigarette and take a long pull. "Well, what is it?" she asked.

Ginny hadn't seen exactly what happened to the best friends at the meeting, but she knew something had happened, something big, and she was dying to know.

"Hold on, I'm still on a sexual buzz. I did Seamus in the dungeon closet. God, he's good," Hermione added, blowing a puff of smoke through the room. "Anyway, I'm pretty much positive that Harry and Ron are... shall we say... _together."_

Ginny wrinkled her nose, unsure if she'd heard the girl right. "_Together _together?"

"As in, making out in the middle of Dumbledore's speech _together," _Hermione snorted bluntly. "It's too bad though. Harry looked like a great kisser."

Ginny felt a tinge of jealousy there. After all, she'd had a crush on Harry for three crucial years of her life. She was over him now though. "So that's why they looked so flushed?" she pondered. "Well, I guess it kind of makes sense. Ron never was very interested in girls."

"Yeah, Harry neither," Hermione spat, closing her eyes and deeply inhaling the cigarette.

Ginny panicked when she heard footsteps in the hallway. "Can you put that thing out please? That could be McGonagall!" she whispered.

"Don't worry about it. She always visits the boys' dorms every night of the week, the nasty old pervert," she laughed.

"No way McGonagall would--"

"Oh yes she would!" Hermione interrupted. "Why do you think that boys in class half as good as me got the same marks?"

Ginny shrugged, not feeling like going on where this conversation was headed. "I dunno." She waited a moment before continuing. "Are you... okay... with Harry and Ron being--?"

"Fine," Hermione snapped, taking one last draw from her cigarette and expelling it. "I'm going back to the boys dorm to see if any if my boys need any favors," she said smoothly, tossing the cigarette butt out the open window. "See ya!" She headed out the door, not bothering to fix up her disheveled hair.

Once again, Ginny was left with her thoughts and her guilt. If only the one person she wanted to be with most wasn't everything she was supposed to hate. She gazed out the window wistfully.

Her beautiful emerald eyes searched the night sky aimlessly, and Draco wished he could be the object of their aim. The way the nearly full moon cast shadows onto her face was simply magical. She couldn't possibly know that he was twenty feet below, hoping that she would glance at him if just for a second. A glace was all he needed to make this worth his time.

Finally, growing impatient with his wait, Draco picked up a stone and threw it at Ginny Weasley's window. The first missed by an embarrassingly large distance. He looked around to make sure no one was watching before throwing another. This one struck it with a loud thwack and Ginny seemed to be snatched away from her dreaming.

Her eyes wandered over the courtyard until they met his. To his surprise and immense relief, she seemed pleased and waved to him. Draco grinned and tried to fix his hair self-consciously. He gestured for her to meet him and she nodded eagerly and rushed away from the window.

Waiting for her arrival seemed to take an eternity, but he was willing to wait simply because it was her he was waiting for. When she appeared at the door and tiptoed out to meet him, he couldn't help but break out into a huge smile.

"Hi," he whispered, trying to mask his enthusiasm.

Ginny blushed and looked at the ground. "Hi," she whispered back. "I really shouldn't be out here." Her eyes were becoming more and more panicked. "What if we're caught?"

Draco reached out and touched her hand, and saw her tense immediately. He let go quickly. "It--It's fine," he stuttered nervously. "We're just talking."

"Yeah, we're just talking," she agreed. "But why? What is going on? We never wanted to talk before today..."

He watched her beautiful, nervous expression as she looked to make sure no one was watching them and couldn't help admiring her. "You look so gorgeous, Ginny," he murmured, feeling himself drawn to her.

She backed away. "So do you," she said shyly. Thinking about what had happened earlier, she said, "I thought a lot about the train today, and you should know I don't hate you."

"You don't?"

Ginny laughed anxiously. "Why else would I be here?" she asked exaggeratedly.

Draco shrugged. "Yeah, I guess that makes sense," he responded, embarrassed. "I'm glad you're here though."

She smiled. "Me too," she whispered. Slowly she walked to him. Tension filled the air. She raised her shaky arms and put them around his neck tentatively. Surprise registered with Draco, but a good kind. He leaned down and touched his lips to hers softly.

The tingling sensation on his lips was a surprise to him. He'd kissed lots of girls, especially over the past summer, but something was definitely different about kissing Ginny. His normal confidence was failing to stay with him at the moment. He felt butterflies in his stomach, and was enjoying the kiss far more than he knew he should be. Finally, he broke away, grinning.

"Wow," he said huskily.

Ginny began to back away again, looking fearful. Draco, concerned, followed her. "Are you okay?" he asked.

"No, no, I'm not," she said. "That shouldn't have happened! I don't know what came over me... I'll just leave..." She turned and took a few steps towards her dorm.

"Why can't we be together?" he called after her.

Ginny stopped for a moment. "It would be a disgrace to my family," she said slowly before walking away.

It took Draco a moment to realize that it would be a disgrace to his as well. But somehow that didn't matter to him like it once had.

Dumbledore clinked a golden knife on his crystal wine goblet to silence the roar of chatter in the Great Hall, then cleared his throat innocently when the glass broke. "I have an announcement to make," he called out in his usual craggly tone. There were moans and groans from around the room. Even some of the teachers rolled their eyes. In his senility, the once-great wizard now had a tendency to ramble on for a good half an hour on topic entirely unrelated to the matter at hand. "Tonight, I would like to introduce your new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Coming all the way from the states to teach all of you, Professor Ginger Snaps!"

The large double doors were thrown open and their new professor was revealed. An unanimous gasp filled the room. A woman... maybe?... stood with one hip jutted way out, hand resting lazily upon it. Her eyes were black as sin, with no white whatsoever, and her fingers were extremely long and bony. Her body itself, aside from the overly large breasts, was very masculine, but her new outfit told a different story. A small red sequin dress with matching pumps and so much gawdy jewelry that it looked as though she'd knocked over a pawn shop. A red feather boa was wrapped around her neck, clashing horribly with the mass of red puffy hair (so obviously a wig) that sat atop her head.

"Hi y'all," she said in a voice that sounded very much like a man trying to impersonate a woman with a southern twang.

"Hello, Professor Snaps," the entire school echoed back. She waggled three fingers suggestively at everyone, then strutted her way down the lane to the head table. Harry clutched his forehead as pain shot through his scar. Hermione glanced briefly at her friend before returning her gaze to the new figure in the room. She didn't need to use her overly large brain to figure out the so-called woman in front of her was indeed a man. The hairy legs were indication enough.

The "woman" strut by their tables in an overly feminine gait, giggling hoarsely. At the teacher table, Dumbledore was holding an empty chair for her, waggling his eyebrows suggestively, a contented smile on his craggly gace. "Here, here, sit next to me please," the old man grunted.

Professor Snaps let out a laugh-snort and covered her face with her bony hand as if deeply surprised. She made her way to the empty seat, apparently totally unaware of the students' giggle at the sight of her fuzzy black-haired armpits. She sat next to Dumbledore and smiled wickedly at the students.

"Hello, my young ones," he deep, raspy voice rang out. "I am so excited to be teaching you Defense Against the Dark Arts this year!" A polite applause followed. "Thank you, thank you! Oh, you're too kind!" she cried melodramatically, as if she'd just been crowned Miss America. "I have fifth and sixth years from Hufflepuff and Griffindor today and it will be my pleasure to meet you all!" She sat down, clearly done speaking. Harry's scar pain began to dull.

The whole hall was silent for a few painful seconds until McGonagall cleared her throat and clapped her hands. "Excuse Professor Dumbledore, students. He seems to have forgotten to tell you to commence with breakfast," she said. Dumbledore looked up at her confusedly. After a couple more seconds of silence, McGonagall stared at the students in disbelief. "Well, start then! Commence!" she said.

The hall immediately erupted into a roar of sound as every student turned to the next to talk about the new DADA professor. They had seen many strange folk come through the school at one time or another, but for some reason, none seemed as strange as this Professor Ginger Snaps. Neville turned to Harry.

"How d'ya reckon her class will be?" he asked apprehensively. "I hope we only use standard spells," he added, shuddering in dark remembrances.

Harry looked at Neville's pale, round face and felt something like pity. "It'll be fine, I'm sure," he reassured him, putting a hand on his shoulder. But he quickly withdrew it, feeling awkward. Since what had happened between him and Ron, Harry was increasingly careful not to send anyone the wrong signals. The only problem was, he hadn't realized how often he touched people every day. In the hallways, during classes, even just hanging out with his friends in the dorms, he had always been in contact with others. And the worst part was, Ron could hardly bring himself to look at Harry. He'd fled early in the morning to avoid facing him.

Harry glanced over a few seats at where Ron was sitting. Their eyes met for a moment, but Ron's quickly darted away. This was terrible. Hoping for at least some kind of connection with Hermione, he looked over at her to see she was already glaring him down. She too looked away, this time whispering something in a Hufflepuff boy's ear behind her. He turned bright red and grinned. She took his hand and pulled the boy away, casting a spiteful grin over her shoulder at Harry.

Harry sighed. Well, at least it couldn't get any worse.

After breakfast, Snape swaggered up to Profesor Snaps and sat beside her. She was staring in her compact mirror, powdering her nose, but she looked up and grinned with recognition when she saw him, her beady black eyes gleaming. "Professor Snape," she smiled, her man's voice cracking slightly.

Snape took in her broad shouldered frame, hairy legs, and contorted face. She certainly wasn't attractive woman, but that didn't make much of a difference to him in his completely high out of his mind state. A lady was a lady. "That's what they call me," he murmured, slurring his words.

"I'm glad to finally meet you. I've heard _so_ much about you," she responded, her voice taking on a slightly more ominous tone.

His hand crept onto her bony knee, and he heard her gasp of surprise. "Oh, me too," he lied. "I don't have a class for another three hours. How about you and me go to the Potions dungeon and do a little... experimentation?" he snarled in what he hoped was a seductive voice.

She grimaced and sent a lightning bolt to his stomach. "I'm sorry, but I have a class in a half hour and I _must _prepare," she growled, her voice dropping an octave. Then, clearing her throat and speaking significantly higher in her range, she said, "I have to go! Ta ta!"

Snape curled up in the fetal position as shocks of electricity jolted his stomach. A few minutes later, he rose to his feet painstakingly. She was a fireball, that one. He had to keep his eye out for her. It was then that he realized her spell had completely taken away his high. He threw his hands up in the air, just now getting that Professor Snaps must have added an incantation for sobriety under her spell. "Damn that woman!" he screamed, rushing to his Potions dungeon. Luckily, he knew the exact concoction that could take away his sober streak in seconds flat.

Ginny glanced across the classroom and saw him. God, she regretted turning him down last night. His robes were so befitting of his muscular shoulders and chest, and his handsome face lit up as he managed to transfigure a pillow. She knew she was staring, but she couldn't help it. He just seemed so sweet... at least for the moment.

Draco let out a snort of laughter at something Goyle had said. What could Goyle have said that was so funny?

"Yeah, Mudblood Granger sure has gotten whory over the summer," she overheard him saying. "I wouldn't be surprised if she prepositioned me the next time she sees me!" he laughed.

Ah, so that was what he found so amusing. At least it did have some truth to it. Hermione had changed an incredible amount over the summer, and the most obvious change was her interest in the opposite gender as a sex toy. Ginny had spotted her heading to Myrtle's bathroom with Kent Andrews during breakfast, and when Hermione showed up for Transfiguration ten minutes late her robes looked like they had just been thrown on and her normally bushy hair was rubbed all over the place.

Ginny glanced at Hermione, who was sitting right next to her. Hermione had tensed significantly since she had entered the class and was glaring at Malfoy piercingly. Obviously his words had affected her, but she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing he'd hurt her. She wouldn't even cover the miles of leg that her loosely hung robe revealed when she sat down.

Ginny knew she should hate Draco. She should... It wasn't right of her to want him like she did. But the longer she looked at him she came to realize that she couldn't hate him. Because when she looked at him she saw a good person, even if he was a little rough around the edges, even if no one could see it but her. She was sure she had feelings for him now. She even thought she maybe...

HIs eyes met hers. Their piercing gray began to soften, became the gray cloud color on a rainy day. His perfectly shaped lips seemed to be calling her, begging her to kiss them again, and to her disgust, she found she actually wanted to. Badly. But no. She had to end this now. Reluctantly she tore her eyes away.

Ripping out a piece of parchment, she began to write a note to him. Everything came out wrong even though she overanalyzed every world. Finally she decided it was as good as it was going to get.

But how could she get it to him without her friends or his noticing the change between them?

As they were dismissed, she indicated to Draco to wait for her. "Wha--?" Crabbe began, but Draco just shook his head. "Meet me in five minutes outside of Herbology," he ordered, waiting for the crowd to file out. "It won't take long!" he assured them loudly.

"Well, what is it then?" Draco asked softly once his friends had left. "I thought you wanted nothing to do with me."

Ginny nodded. "Yes, it's true. I want absolutely nothing to do with you." She stopped, seeing the obvious pain in Draco's face. "But I have a note. I think you should read it."

"And what, face more rejection? No thank you," he spat.

"Please," she pleaded, her green eyes brimming with tears. "Please, just read it, and you'll understand." Seeing his hesitation she added, "Do this for me. Please."

Malfoy nodded, obviously trying to keep his dignity. "Bye," she said softly as he sauntered away.

Ron watched Harry's scruffy black hair as a chunk of it flopped into his face for the hundredth time in the hour. Why hadn't he realized Harry was so cute sometime when they were--say-- speaking to each other? Life was insanely unfair.

Professor Snaps was sitting at the blackboard, writing various notes with her mind, such as, "My name is Professor Ginger Snaps," "This class is meant to teach you defense only," and "Hey you in the fourth row, stop talking, this is a classroom!" Although seeing people get yelled at could be kind of amusing for everyone else, Ron was worried about Professor Snaps pulling another Umbridge on them. No magic allowed? Please.

Just then, he heard her gruff, grainy voice say, "You are dismissed." Ron jumped up but got caught in the crowd. Harry was long gone by the time Ron reached the bustling hallway. It wasn't as if he could enjoy it right now anyway.

Following his intuition, Ron hoped that Harry had gone to their dorms to be by himself. Ron tracked his way to their room, hopeful that his best friend was picking up books for his next class. Swinging open the door, he found everything according to plan. Harry sat on his bed, a spellbook open in his lap. When Ron entered the room, his eyes lit up, then darkened as tension took its toll. "What are you doing here?" Harry asked finally.

"I needed to talk to you," Ron responded quickly. "Look--"

"No, you look! You can't jump over my feelings like you did, like they don't matter!" Harry shouted. "Jesus, Ron, I didn't know you were so bloody insensitive!"

Ron cursed mentally. Here he was, trying to kiss and make up, and Harry was jumping down his throat. "Like you're doing now?" he blurted out, but immediately regretted it. "Forget I said that, just-- let's just-- forget this whole thing. I'm sorry I pushed you around, Harry, I really am," he finished sincerely.

Harry smiled. "I believe you," he whispered. "I'm sorry too. I'm not ready to tell people yet, but... I will be. You don't have to worry about that." He laughed to himself. "We're so stupid! Why do we do this to ourselves?"

"The things we do for love," Ron said quietly.

His best friend's yellow-green eyes shone up at him. "Is that what this is?" he asked. "Is this love?" His eyes reached out at Ron's, desperately needing an answer.

"I dunno," Ron responded, not losing eye contact. "I think about you all the time," he admitted, stepping closer to Harry's bed.

"Me too," the other boy said as he got up and stepped nearer to Ron. "In a good way. In a great way actually."

Ron touched Harry's smooth face. The shiver it sent down both of their spines was enough of an answer for both of them. Urgently they kissed, both boy moving toward the other and meeting in the middle. Ron was so happy. To finally have his fingers in that hair, to touch the face he'd dreamt about all summer, and to have Harry kiss him back... It was more than he could ask for.

Harry pulled away slowly and reluctantly. "Is it okay if I lock the door?" he asked breathlessly.

Ron nodded. After all, if he'd had a girl in here, he definitely would have locked the door.

Again their lips met. Harry led Ron to his bed. They both sat on the edge and leaned onto their sides, still kissing. Ron opened his eyes and looked at Harry closely before pulling away.

"In one hundred years, would you ever have imagined us doing this?" Ron whispered, laughing.

Harry tucked one of Ron's stray curls away from his face, causing him to shiver. "I actually dreamed it," he said meaningfully.

"Seriously?"

"Hell yes!" Harry laughed. "It was a really good dream." Both of them grinned.

Ron moved in. "Did I kiss you like this?" he asked, kissing him sweetly.

"No, no, no," Harry said slowly. "You kissed me more like this." He grabbed Ron's face between his hands and kissed him passionately.

A loud rapping shocked them both. "Uh... who is it?" Harry asked.

"Neville and Seamus," the muffled voice behind the door said.

Embarrassed, Harry and Ron straightened up and opened the door for their friends. "Hey Harry, Ron," Seamus said as he entered and started digging through his bag. Seamus was infamous for never unpacking his bag all year. Neville, on the other hand, just waited, as all of his things were unpacked, if not a bit unorganized.

"Hey guys," Ron acknowledged glumly.

Seamus grabbed three books and sat on a chair in front of Harry and Ron. "Oh, and I was wondering if you could encourage your friend Hermione to stop being so cold to me. I mean, we had a lot of fun together. A lot," he added with a raise of his eyebrows. "She's really quite sexy. I guess I never noticed before."

Harry smiled. "You and half of Hogwarts," he laughed. "Sure I'll tell her." If only Harry could feel the same way about girls... But then, if that were true he couldn't have Ron, so he supposed he was better off without.

"Well, see ya," Seamus said as he walked away.

"Yeah, I'll talk to you later!" Neville added and then jogged to catch up.


	3. The Curses

CHAPTER THREE

Draco had Ginny's note out and was reading it over and over to make sure he understood. It was exactly the opposite of what he'd expected. It wasn't a hate not; it was an admission of love. She wrote:

_Dear Draco,_

_I don't know how to say this, but even though it's so wrong, I can't help myself. I love you, Draco. We have to be together somehow. We just have to! Somehow I know we can't be together forever, but I also know we should be. Let's try to figure this out. If you feel the same way, let's meet at the room that only appears when truly needed at eleven o'clock tonight. Please be there._

_Love,_

_Ginny_

All of the air left Draco's lungs in a giant whoosh. He felt as though he could fly; so much happiness rushed through him in a single, euphoric burst. The room that only appears when truly needed... At eleven... Determination gleamed in his lightening eyes and he nodded to himself. Tonight could very well decide the fate of the heir to the Malfoy fortune, but one thing was for certain: he would be with one person he loved more than anyone else in the world.

Eleven frightful chimes echoed through the silent hallway. Very few people were up at this hour, Ginny noticed with slight nervousness. She'd passed Hermione fucking some third year Hufflepuff against a wall, receiving her usual nod of greeting. (The third year couldn't hear her footsteps over his groans.) Professor McGonagal was trying hard to be sneaky as she snuck to the Slytherin common room when Ginny spotted her. Date with Snape perhaps? Or possibly Crabbe and Goyle? Those two had been receiving unusually high marks in Transfiguration lately...

Ginny made no indication that she was aware of her teacher's presence, and though both saw each other and knew the other saw them, they thought a mutual silence would be best. So she continued on her way down the hallway, praying feverishly Draco read her note and would meet her.

The door appeared out of what should have been a solid wall, just as it was supposed to. Was he already there? Had he stood her up? Ginny pushed all the worry from her mind as she gripped the doorhandle and slowly shoved the door open. It was black as sin inside. With shaky fingers, she drew out her wand and whispered an unsteady, "Luminous!" Instantly, a white light glowed from the end of her wand, and she shut the door behind her so no one else would know she was there. On preliminary inspection, it appeared she was alone. Then a hand clamped over her mouth, and she felt a scream rising in her throat.

"Shhh," a familiar voice whispered gently in her ear. "Don't worry, it's just me." Thin fingers ran through her auburn locks, soothing her fears. She shifted in his arms so that she faced him and embraced him tenderly.

"I thought you weren't going to come," she murmured into the folds of his robe. He drew away and took her face in his hands.

"Oh course," he laughed softly, "you can't pass up on true love."

She let out a gleeful giggle as he spun her around. "You really, truly, _love _me?" Ginny asked, unable to contain her glee. This seemed so unreal.

Draco nodded. "No doubt in my mind," he assured her, kissing her softly. Finally. She sighed against his lips. Everything was clicking into place.

"I don't want to lose you," she murmured out, a sense of desperation creeping into her brain. He stroked her hair and looked into the emerald beauty of her eyes. "Don't worry," he smiled down on her. "I'm never letting you go."

A few prismatic tears escaped from her eyes, and she sniffed. "They'd never let us be together."

"So we don't tell them," he said, pulling them both down to the floor. Ginny almost laughed at the absurdity of that statement.

"Draco, I have six brothers who watch over my every word. They'd find out eventually. We need to tell them."

Frustration glanced from his eyes. "Yes, but _my _family..." he trailed off. "They would never forgive me, cut me off completely... or worse..." He trembled at the thought of what his father would do if he knew.

"Look," Ginny said, firmly but tenderly. "I don't know what your father could do to you, but I know if you really want to be with me, if you _love _me, you'll find some way to be honest with him." She clasped his hand in her own. "Do this for me, okay?" she murmured, batting her eyes.

He looked into her eyes and felt his fear dissipate. "Of course I'll do it for you. I'll do anything--"

She cut him off with an abrupt kiss, wrapping her slender arms around his neck. "Thank you for this," she said quietly. "Now we can be together, really _be _together."

"Finally," Draco whispered.

Hermione stiffened as she saw Harry grab Ron's hand during breakfast, and nearly screamed as he set the hand on his own knee. She had forgiven them for their sexual preferences, but still... She supposed it was jealousy she was feeling, this overwhelming tension that ate away at the pit of her stomach, but she hated seeing Harry with Ron. Dammit, she was still so attracted to him.

Harry tossed his unruly hair and she unwittingly shivered. He was so sexy. Forcing her eyes away from his strong profile, she glanced at Seamus, who apparently had been staring at her chest for some time now. She smirked slyly and ran her hand down her body.

"Hermione," he said suddenly, seemingly jolted out of his trance.

"Yes?" she asked, loosening her robe and leaning forward to show more cleavage. She hadn't even bothered to put a shirt on today; all she was wearing was a lacy bra. It would probably be off before her first class anyway.

Seamus gulped. "I was thinking... You know, if you're interested, if... we could get together sometime like a couple," he blurted out nervously.

She held back a laugh. "A couple?" she asked. It was strange: no one she'd been with had ever thought of her as a half of their couple, not even Victor Krum.

"Yeah," he encouraged sincerely. He reminded her of a small boy.

Hermione tried to look sympathetic as she sized up his brown-eyed, dark-haired, sturdy frame. "Look Seamuse, you're cute and all but..." Seeing his quickly falling expression, she made an extra attempt to be nice. "I'm just not the couple type, I guess. I'm sorry."

He looked confused, studying her face critically. "I thought... When we..."

She cleared her throat, trying to move past the topic. "About that, I just, you know, am a girl who likes to have fun. If you're interested in _that, _well, maybe we can work something out," she said seductively. Her foot crept up his pant leg.

He shuddered, but wouldn't meet her eyes. "You know, this was a bad idea." He got to his feet, preparing to walk away.

"No!" Hermione called out. "Wait for me!" She caught up to him and slipped her arm around his back. "How about we be a couple for a little while?" she whispered in his ear.

Seamus shook his head. "No," he said quietly, and then with more convinction, "No! I can't deal with your games anymore, and if I can't have you in a true way, I don't want you," he insisted fervently as they neared the door. "Goodbye," he added after they'd entered the hallway, walking away from her as quickly as possible.

Standing alone in the hallway, feeling dirty and rejected, Hermione wondered how someone could actually have turned her down. The wonder quickly turned to desperation. Yes, this was definitely desperation that she was feeling. Spotting a tall seventh year, she sauntered over to him, twirling a curl of hair with her index finger.

"Do you want a graduation present?" she murmured.

Professor Snaps moved to the front of the classroom and snapped her fingers impatiently. Instantly everyone in the room fell silent. They had quickly learned that this professor was not to be tested. She smiled coyly and let out a small giggle, which quickly morphed into a cough.

"Welcome to Defense Against the Dark Arts," she cooed. Everyone stared in rapture at the woman as she shifted her black vinyl dress so it covered just a bit less of her pale, hairy legs. She hadn't had time to shave the stubble that was rapidly transforming into a beard and the beginnings of a mustache that usually looked diabolical. _Damn, _she thought as she looked in the small mirror, _the disguise is slipping. _Oh well, she'd take care of it at the end of class.

"Who can tell me who the most powerful evil wizard in history is?" she asked.

The smiles in the room began to wane, and some of the students shifted uncomfortably in their seats. Ginger couldn't help but grin at the fear that began to permeate through the room. One hand shot up in the mess, and the professor's black eyes narrowed into slits.

Harry Potter.

"Voldemort," he replied smoothly with out the faintest hint of a tremor in his voice.

She was one part annoyed and one part amused at his curt reply, raising a bushy eyebrow. "You do not fear to say his name, young Mr. Potter?" she challenged, gruff voice scraping.

"No," Harry said slowly. His eyes calmly met her black stare. "I do not fear him."

Professor Snaps' face fell in disbelief. Surely he could not be serious. "Foolish boy! Lord Voldemort--" The class gasped at the sound of his name. "Er-- He-who-should-not-be-named is a threat to the entire wizarding world! He is more powerful than ever! You, of all people, Potter, should fear him! He'll come after you if you don't watch your foolish tongue!"

The entire class went silent, watching the professor's ranting in fear. Was this new teacher meaning to threaten Harry? Or was she just mad?

Harry's eyes had filled with confusion. "Yes, well, this is true. But we've been taught that fearing him does us no good. We're learning to overcome our fears of the dark arts." His voice took on clear sarcasm as he added, "That's why we're here."

Professor Snaps glanced warily around the class. "Yes, of course," she grunted. "I apologize, I just... you know... feel very strongly about er-- _fighting_ the dark arts." The class stared at her for a moment, Harry studying her nervous expression, before she continued. "Let's continue our discussion of Voldemort another time. Right now, turn to page seventy-two of your text. Miss Granger, will you do us the honor of reading?" she asked briskly.

"Of course, Professor," Hermione answered, spreading her legs.

The professor wondered at the girl's sexual manner. Surely she couldn't know... After all, it was a perfect plan... Flawless, in fact... Snaps followed along her book, trying not to even consider the possibility that Hermione knew her deep, dark secret.

Hermione finished her reading and faced the front of the classroom, watching the man in disguise as he continued to teach the class. It was obvious that the imposter was a man, and what a man he was. Hermione was definitely beginning to get turned on by him. He was careful not to look at her as he spoke to them.

The man, Ginger Snaps, or whatever his real name was, wasn't at all physically attractive, but there was something about him... a sexy sort of danger in his eye. There was a power in him that was obvious from the first time she'd seen him, but she was getting more and more attracted to him as he spoke, his deep, rumbling voice resonating through the room. If only she could get him to notice her... At the moment, she didn't care what his secret was, she just wanted him.

But how could she approach him? If she was too subtle, he wouldn't catch her meaning, but if she was too obvious, she might scare him away. On the other hand... A lot of guys liked aggressiveness, and it _was_ her strongest tactic... So, aggressive it was. She couldn't wait to tell the Professor what she thought of him.

"You are dismissed," Professor Snaps called out deeply. The sound of his voice was so intoxicating, Hermione almost drooled on herself.

Students filed out hurriedly, but Hermione stayed in her chair, still staring at the Professor. Harry and Ron were last out the door. They sent her a questioning look, but she told them to leave with a wave of her hand.

Professor Snaps began digging through her desk for materials, looking nervous. Hermione approached him slowly, but he seemed not to notice her until she was right in front of him. He looked up questioningly, and their eye contact was awkward and fleeting. Quickly, he looked back down. "Yes, Miss Granger?" he asked, keeping up the facade with an impossibly high voice.

Swaying her hips, Hermione sat on the edge of his desk. She leaned closer to his face. "Professor, you're so different from the other teachers here," she said huskily.

He looked up hesitantly, a sort of dark fear in his eyes. "What do you mean?" he asked, voice cracking.

"I know you're a man, Professor," Hermione smiled coyly, pulling her skirt up to reveal more leg, "and you should know that I'm interested."

Snaps gulped. "Interested in what?" His voice had completely dropped now, and his black eyes were twitching.

She got up off his desk and sat slowly on his lap. She giggled when he gasped slightly in surprise. Not answering his question, she asked, "Tell me, how long has been since you've been a with a woman? Months? Years?"

He smiled slightly as her direction became obvious. "It's been a long time," he whispered in her ear, making her shiver with anticipation.

"Let's change that," Hermione murmured back. She grabbed him by the neck and thrust her lips onto his lustily. Her tongue slipped inside his mouth and her hands ran over his body.

He pulled away, reluctance apparent. "No one will know about this, will they?" She shook her head. "Then let's continue this in my cupboard." Seeing her annoyance, he added, "Just in case anyone disturbs us."

Hermione nodded slyly, her eyes taking in his black ones. "Let's go," she said seductively, licking her lips and then tugging him by the hand to the rather large cupboard.

Harry closed the door of the empty Transfiguration classroom and turned to face Ron. He took a tentative step towards the red head, smiling shyly. Now that they were finally alone together, Harry realized how nervous he was. Ron reached slender fingers up to brush a stray strand of hair from Harry's face, and Harry's heart skipped a beat. When did looking into Ron's sparking, joyful eyes start making Harry's heart dance and his stomach flutter? When had things changed from friendly comraderie to... love?

Harry caught Ron's wrist as he started to pull away, stopping his hand at eye-level. Ron's gaze flicked to Harry's soft lips, and his fingers twitched with the urge to touch them. Smiling, Harry brought Ron's hand to his mouth and took one long, slender finger into his mouth.

The door burst open, and a frightened-looking first year dashed to the back of the room, snatched up a book, and ran out, hardly glancing at the two boys who were now standing a good six feet apart, hands clasped conspicuously behind their backs. They both stared at the door as it clicked shut. Ron let out an explosive sigh and flung himself into one of the empty seats.

"It's no use Harry. We're cursed."

Harry's eyes widened, and he took a step towards his friend and pseudo-lover. "Ron... You don't think... Hermione..."

"Blimey!" Ron's eyes widened, then narrowed as he considered the idea. "Last year I would've said she'd never do something like that... But so much has changed over the summer..." Ron let his eyes travel over Harry's hunky body and allowed himself a small smirk.

Harry blushed, and stammered, "B-but... Would she really _curse _her best friends?"

"She bloody well _would!_ She's turned into such a bitch this year. And I've seen the way she looks at you, like a cat after a choice mouse. It's sickening!"

Draco sat in the uncomfortable wooden chair outside of his father's office. He'd gotten special permission to meet his father during school hours; he had convinced Dumbledore that it was urgent. And it was. With Ginny desperate to get their relationship out in the open, he felt getting it over with was urgent within itself.

Anxiously, his foot began twitching. God, could his father's meeting last any longer? Draco had been sitting in that rigid chair for nearly an hour and a half. His father had been informed of his arrival, so where was he? Couldn't he see that this was important to Draco?

"Draco Malfoy?" asked a lumpy faced witch behind the front desk.

Draco turned to look at her. "Yeah?" he replied impatiently.

"Your father will see you now," she said smilingly. "You can enter that door."

He nodded but didn't get up right away. He shook out his nerves and rubbed the muscles behind his neck with tense, shaky fingers, hoping to relax. It didn't work. Trying hard to act casual, he got up and shoved open the door to his father's office.

As soon as he entered, a file of serious-looking witches and warlocks walked out. Most of them were pale and looked harrassed, he noticed. Her hoped his father was in an okay mood to hear his news. If he wasn't... Draco didn't even want to think about it.

Lucius Malfoy's cold gray eyes smiled sharply at his son. "Draco, boy, why are you here to visit? Shouldn't you be in school?"

"I excused myself for the day," Draco said hesitantly, worried about how much he should tell his father.

Lucius waited for an explanation. "Why?" he asked after none came.

The son gulped. "I have something to tell you," he said softly.

"Well, what is it?" Aggravatedly, he shook his head and began magically sorting files. "I'm a very busy man..."

"Dad, I--I'm in love," Draco blurted out, eager to get it out in the open.

His father looked at him amusedly, one eyebrow raised in a gentilian manner. "That's good, son. As long as you let her know who is in control, I'm sure you'll be happy together." He began to distract himself by looking as though he were absorbed in paperwork, but when Draco stayed in front of his desk, he puzzedly glanced back up. "Is there more?" his snarling voice questioned.

"Yes. It's Ginny Weasley," Draco choked out.

Somehow hearing himself say it out loud made him realize it was only fair to tell his father, no matter what the consequences. Keeping it a secret would be terribly wrong. Still, it was scary, seeing his father's normally pale face redden deeply, and his eyes bulge as this registered with him. Draco could almost pinpoint the moment when the full force of the anger hit him.

"What?" Lucius Malfoy snapped. "You... love... Ginny Weasley?" He spat the name as if it were poison.

Draco gulped. "I do."

"The wretch! From that despicably lowly family! Draco, no, you are ending this now. To be associated with the _Weasleys..."_ He trailed off, glaring at Draco demandingly.

The boy clenched his teeth and listened to his father's demand; he'd expected this kind of reaction. But it didn't change that he wouldn't ever leave Ginny. He'd never felt the way he felt with her before. There was an electricity, a chemical reaction everytime they were together. He couldn't just give that up. If only his father could understand.

"I love her," Draco forced out tightly, "and I can't end it."

Lucius continued to glare at his son with obvious disdain. "You must. There is no alternative," his strained voice growled.

"Yes, there is!" his son declared, his confidence growing. "We will be together, father."

"Will you really?"

"Yes," Draco said firmly. "You can't stop us."

"Can't I?" Lucius asked, threat apparent in his voice.

Draco gulped apprehensively. "No," he said in a slightly weaker tone. He tried to continue looking committed to his cause.

"Son?"

Nerves elevating, he dared to glance at his father.

"What if I was to send you to another wizarding school? Say--Durmstrang?" Lucius's eyes seemed masked somehow, as if he were hiding his true emotions.

"Durmstrang?" Draco somehow managed to choke out. His father wouldn't actually send him away, would he?

Lucius smiled coldly. "It's a fine school, that. Your cousin Glenfilda graduated at the top of her class there. And with Dumbledore still the headmaster at Hogwarts... It seems a better alternative," he added, maintaining his calm.

Draco's pale eyebrows drew together. His father could not do this to him. "No, I'm staying at Hogwarts. I'm staying with Ginny," he insisted.

Suddenly, his father lept up from behind his desk, as he moved, shouting, "Crucio!" with his wand outstretched.

Before the full impact of what his father had just done could hit Draco, the torture that the curse inflicted did. It was unlike anything he'd ever felt before; starting in his extremities and moving inward, incredible pain sliced through his nerves, causing his muscles to spasm uncontrollably. Draco riled on the floor, staring up at his father with forsaken eyes.

"Draco," his father said slowly, as if to prolong his son's agony. "You will not have anything to do with Ginny Weasley, you hear me?" His voice took on a more deadly tone as he added, "If I hear anything from the school about you two being together, _anything, _I may be forced to use the Imperius curse on you. You will have nothing to do with the Weasley girl," he repeated, seeming to relish the words. He withdrew the curse.

Draco looked up at his father weakly before staggering out of his office, not caring that the people in the Ministry were staring at him as if he were crazy.

Nothing could keep him away from Ginny Weasley. Nothing.


	4. Betrayal

CHAPTER FOUR

The wind blew in a crisp rush that seemed to be aimed directly at Ginny's face. Blinking back the tears that the wind had brought about, she found herself trying to fight off the real tears that were threatening to burst from her eyes. But she couldn't. Draco was supposed to be here by now. Where was he? As she paced the small dirt path under a large oak tree, she gazed out at the lake and let the thoughts take over her mind. Maybe his father took drastic measure to make sure they wouldn't be together. Maybe Draco had simply given up, and chose to forget all that they had worked for, all that they had fought for...

"Ginny," she heard him whisper her name, felt the warmth of his breath on the back of her neck, and all of her worries dissipated in the wind.

With a smile on her face, she turned in his arms and hugged him tightly. When she finally pulled away, she looked up into his smoky eyes. Something was wrong. She reached up and touched his pale cheek-- paler than normal.

"Your father was angry," she said finally, stating what he was afraid to admit. Draco sighed deeply, and tugged gently on her hand. Together they sat down under the canopy of leaves. Leaning against his chest, Ginny could hear Draco's steady heartbeat through his sweater. Fingers intertwined, cradled together, they said nothing for a long moment. Waves lapped gently at the grassy bank of the lake and the wind--that once beat violently on her face--tossed the leaves back and forth.

Finally Draco sighed and broke the tranquil silence.

"He threatened me with the Imperius Curse," he told her. Immediately Ginny stiffened in his arms, and would have jumped if he hadn't kept his hold on her. "We'll fight him Ginny."

Though he physical right stopped, an air of rebellion hung around her. "Draco, he can hurt you..." she started to protest, but he school his head. Inwardly, he decided to leave out the fact that his father had already used "Crucio" on him.

"No he can't," he told her firmly, planting a kiss in her auburn hair. "Not if I have you."

Despite the constant strum of worry in her heart, she couldn't help but smile at his comment. It put her up on a beautiful fluffy cloud. "We have to protect you somehow," Ginny said finally, reluctantly coming back down to reality. "I mean, what if he isn't bluffing? What if I never--" she choked on her own words, "What if I never see you again as you? I couldn't stand it..."

Draco swallowed tersely, trying to think of a solution. A stupid, unrealistic idea popped into his head, but he didn't dismiss it. "We could run away," he said quickly. "We could run away and never come back."

Ginny nodded, staring up into his calm gray eyes and knowing that everything would work out. If all else failed she alone would make sure that they'd be together forever. Whatever way necessary.

Harry glanced at Ron lovingly and smiled. It was so cute, how hard he was trying to concentrate. HIs eyes seemed glued to the book he had splayed out in front of him. His hair was thrown all about and his forehead was creased in concentration in the cutest way. If only Harry could tear his eyes away from Ron and study like his best friend could.

Forcing his eyes back down, Harry reread the same line he'd read at least four times before. This was pointless. There was just no way that he'd be able to focuse long enough to get any work done. There was too much on his mind. His book snapped shut with a loud smack.

Ron jerked up at the sound. "Shouldn't you study? The Transfiguration reading has just piled up."

Harry shook his head. "I can't." He ran a hand through his disheveled black hair. "When are we going to talk to Hermione? I want to be with you, but not if we're constantly gonna be interrupted." His voice held a trace of bitterness that he couldn't conceal.

His friend nodded slowly. "I know what you mean. I can't believe she could do this to us after all these years... I thought we were friends!" he finished.

"Yeah me too," Harry agreed, putting his hand on Ron's knee. A shiver ran down his spine; it felt so right. "We'll find her soon, and find out the truth."

"After this?" Ron asked breathily, leaning in for a kiss. Their lips had barely touched when the door burst open. Hermione stood there, face flushed and looking as trashy as ever. The boys separated quickly, embarassed at being discovered yet again.

She sat on Ron's bed, seemingly oblivious to their awkwardness. "Hey guys," she said huskily. "What's up?"

Harry somehow surpressed the urge to scream, "We were about to kiss so why don't you leave us alone???" Instead he cleared his thoat and choked out, "Not much I guess." Noticing her skirt was hiked up and a corner of her black lace thong was showing, he nearly laughed as he added, "And you?"

"Mmmm," Hermione murmured, stretching her arms above her head and yawning. "I am so good right now. I was with Professor Snaps," she commented suggestively.

Ron snorted a laugh. "You were with Professor _Ginger _Snaps?"

She looked offended momentarily. "Yeah, and it was wonderful." As an afterthought, she added, "Why?"

Still smiling, Ron shook his head defensively. "Hey, I didn't mean that in a bad way. I just didn't know you went that way, you know..."

Hermione stared at him curiously, then laughed in realization. "Don't you know?"

Ron frowned. "Know what?"

"Professor Ginger Snaps is a man. He's just in disguise for some reason." She laughed again. "I thought it was obvious."

Uncomfortably, Harry and Ron shifted where they were sitting. "It explains some things I guess," Harry admitted.

"Hell yes it does!" She spread her legs, revealing even more of the lacy underwear. "His closet isn't the most comfortable place in the world, but he is totally worth it. He's soo sexy..."

Harry interrupted her. "Speaking of... uh... relationships, we--Ron and me-- have something to ask you."

The air seemed to stretch taughtly with tension. Harry and Ron glanced at each other, and Hermione eyed them both strangely. Finally she couldn't stand it anymore.

"Well?" she demanded impatiently. "What is it?"

Harry was the one to begin to speak. "Hermione, are you bitter at all about... me and Ron... being together?" he asked anxiously.

She looked flabbergasted for a moment. "What is this about? Is there some kind of problem?"

"Well... I don't know... Just answered the question!" the bespectacled boy snapped.

Hermione blushed slightly as she admitted, "I was bitter for a while. I've always been attracted to you Harry," she added, turning to face him. "But I got over it. Honestly. You guys can be together, that's fine. Why did you ask?"

Harry and Ron knew she wanted to know why they would ask her tha but they were surprised at how reluctant they were to tell her the truth. For the first time that year, they felt like they were seeing the old Hermione, their friend. She was being vulnerable with them for first time in a long time. They didn't want to lose that so soon after having found it again.

Harry cleared his throat again. "It seems like... Ron and I can't be together, we keep being interrupted, it's just so strange... unnatural..."

"So?" Hermione asked demandingly.

"We think our relationship is cursed," Ron jumped in.

She glared at him and then at Harry, sending a jolt of guilt through his stomach. "What does that have to do with me?"

There was silence for a second as Harry's courage built up. For support, he slipped his hand into Ron's, then looked her straight in the eye. It was time to get this over with.

"We think you cursed us," he blurted out.

For the first time in a very long time, Hermione loked hurt. Genuinely hurt. All pretenses of her bad-ass attitude slipped away for a moment and she stared at the two boys, clearly offended. "I can't believe you guys think that!" A tear, a real glistening tear, leaked from the corner of her eye. It wasn't prompted by acting or a will to get her way, she was actually sad. Hermione raised her chin in defiance and glared at the boys.

"I hate you," she growled out bitterly. "I wish I had cursed you both!"

With that, she bounded off the bed and out of dormatory. Harry looked blankly down at the blanket with a sinking feeling in his stomach. He was very afraid that he'd just lost one of his best friends.

An hour later, Harry and Ron lay together on Harry's bed--legs entangled, arms around each other. Both were staring at the ceiling.

"We really screwed up this time." Harry finally broke the silence.

Ron chuckled, the sound rumbling deep in his chest and vibrating through Harry. "Yep," he sighed. "We did." Ron never meant to hurt Hermione. He'd even loved her once, as more than a friend. But that was before her transformation, and the momentous summer when he realized he was in love with Harry. Now everything was different. Still, his platonic love for her remained, and he would never intentionally try to hurt her.

"You think we should go apologize?" Harry asked, flopping onto his stomach and looking down at Ron. His sparkling green eyes sparkled in the light, and Harry almost sighed at the beauty of them.

"Yeah, I think so." Ron smiled up at him as he reached up and pushed away a pesky strand of black hair that had fallen into his eyes. Harry grinned impishly and planted a quick kiss on his lips.

"I'll go," he volunteered, then regretfully pushed himself off Ron's chest and left in search of Hermione.

He found her in the Astronomy Tower with her head in her arms and her knees hugged to her chest.

"Hermione?" he whispered her name into the moonlit darkness. Her small body immediately tensed up, but she didn't look up at him. He moved slightly into the small circular room and crouched down next to her.

"Come on 'Mione," he pleaded with her, gently touching her arm. "I'm really, really, sorry."

No response.

"Please talk to me?"

Still no answer. Harry reached out and touched her honey hair, but she jerked away quickly.

"You know we both love you Hermione. Gay or straight, nothing can change that. And I'm really sorry we thought you were the one who cursed us. I know you'd never do something like that."

Slowly she lifted her head up to look at him. Her face was red with tears and sadness was etched vibrantly clear across her face. "You guys hurt me," she said thickly. "Really bad. You're the only friends I have left. I don't want to lose you too." The last part was sobbed out with such emotion it made Harry's heart break.

"Hey," he said seriously as he wrapped an arm around her shoulder. "You are never gonna lose us. Never. Got that?" The air got considerably lighter after that.

She smiled weakly. "You sure?" she asked tentatively. Her eyes shined hopefully up at him.

"Yeah," he reassured her, feeling as though a load of guilt had been lifted off his shoulders. He grinned sympathetically at her and squeezed her fingers softly.

Hermione's face brightened just a bit more and she wrapped her arms around Harry tightly. "It still hurts," she said quietly, "but I guess... for now...I can forgive you." She pulled away, laughing slightly and wiping her tears. "God, I've been such a bitch this year, haven't I? I don't know what's wrong with me, I just... It feels good to be desired, you know?"

Harry thought of Ron and nodded. "I know," he whispered.

Draco hurriedly shoved piles of clothes and books into his magically enlarged duffel bad and quickly looked in the mirror in his dorm room. It was stupid, but he wanted to look good for Ginny. He combed his blonde hair and straightened his robes nervously. He couldn't do anything about his bloodshot eyes and palid face, but he still tried to relax. This was a big deal. Him and Ginny being together was a big deal. Bigger than any other aspect of his life, at least.

He'd been so pathetic before he met--truly met-- Ginny. He'd been a huge coward, slightly less than a real person because he let his insecurities control him. When he'd felt bad about himself, he was lash out at others. It was actually sad. But things were different now. He had Ginny: Ginny, who made him want to be a better person, who saw through his flimsy pretenses and to the real him. Tucking the remains of his nervousness away, Draco gripped his bag and, ignoring the stares of some of the boys in the Slytherin common room, marched to meet his fate.

Finally, after rounding the last flight of stairs, he saw her. Ginny looked as apprehensive as Draco felt. Her beautiful, creamy complexion was the palest he'd ever seen it; he round lips compressed into a straight line. He whispered her name so softly he feared she wouldn't hear it.

But she heard it. Her green eyes quickly darted in his direction and lit up, and she dropped her bags and embraced him tightly. He felt her breath on his neck as she said, "Thank God. I was worried you'd change your mind." Ginny pulled away and searched his eyes desperately. "Are you sure about this?" she asked.

Draco kissed her sweetly. "I'm sure," he murmured, grabbing her hand and pulling her towards the door.

Her hand came up and wiped a glistening tear from her cheek. "I'm sorry, I'm just so nervous," she said, laughing at herself.

"It's okay," he reassured her before stepping outside. The cold night air quickly met their bare hands and faces, and a shiver ran down Draco's spine. "I'm sure we can find a cottage in the country."

His breath caught in his throat for a tense moment and he stopped dead in his tracks. The person he least wanted to see at this very moment was now standing directly in front of them.

"Draco, Draco, Draco," his father chided coldly. "I thought I raised you better than this." In a flash his arm had lashed out and his strong fingers were around Draco's neck.

_Oh shit, _Draco thought to himself. Fear seized his body, and he was unable to even more. Lucius's fingers only tightened when his son's desperation shone from his eyes. _Is this how it will end? _Draco thought. _Could my own father actually kill me? _But even as that thought hit him another countered it. The Malfoy family was known for their cruelty, and Lucius was no exception. Suddenly, there was no doubt in Draco's mind that his father would kill him... if it suited him. At this moment, it was anyone's guess what suited Lucius Malfoy.

Lucius's bitter, sharp eyes met Draco's fearful ones unflinchingly. His life flashing before his eyes, Draco realized that killing him would suit his father at this moment, and terror seized him. But there was nothing he could do. Second by second, he was growing weaker, less able to fight back...

Just as Draco gave up, his throat was released as Ginny murmured a curse and his father doubled over, clutching his groin. Draco gasped for much needed air and looked gratefully up at Ginny.

Her frightened-looking face managed a weak smile. "Always knew that curse would come in handy," she said, her voice barely a whisper.

Draco nodded and tried to catch his breath as his life gradually came back to him. Every part of his body was aching from lack of oxygen, but he put on a brave face and painfully reached for Ginny's hand. "Let's get out of here," he rasped, beginning to stumble in the direction of the Hogwarts entrance.

"How will we get across the lake?" she murmured worriedly.

Draco shook his head, and heard his father's movements behind them. "There's no time. Dad's coming," he panted. "Let's go to the Potions dungeon." He indicated the nearest building.

With no other communication, the two limped across the schoolyard that they had formerly loved so well, now seemed to stretch on forever. Ginny's arm around Draco did little to warm him or to renew his depleted strength of his legs, and Lucius's footsteps behind them seemed to get louder and louder as he recovered from his curse. Out of what seemed to be pure desperation, Ginny and Draco reached the dungeon. Luckily for them, it was unlocked.

Quickly they entered the pitch black dungeon. It was frightening how a familiar (if not unfondly remembered) place like this could seem so unfamiliar and alien in the dark.

"Lumos," Ginny muttered, brightening as her wand lit the usual features of the room, as well as her fearful face. Still, the light wasn't enough to dissipate her fears. "Your father is still behind us. We need to lock the door," she insisted, leaning back on the dungeon door.

"But where is the key? If Snape wasn't always so stoned, maybe he could have helped me out," Draco spat. "He always liked me."

A strange smell came to both of their noses now, an unfamiliar, almost sickeningly sweet odor... In face, as the teenagers looked through the room more closely, a faint haze of pink smoke covered pretty much everything. The realization of what this meant hit both of them at the same time.

A combination of humor and worry was present on Ginny's face. "Oh my God," she said, half-laughing. "He's here."

"That's right, I am."

They turned to face the tall, gangly form of Professor Snape. But he was the furthest gone either of them had ever seen him. His distant, bloodshot eyes stared into space, and his face was covered with a slimy sweat. From his appearance, Draco wouldn't have been surprised if Snape hadn't had a sober day in months.

"Can you lock the door?" Draco asked. Even as he said this, Lucius began banging on the dungeon door that was only held shut by Ginny and Draco's shaking bodies. "Please?" Draco pleaded.

Snape studied their desperate faces with a distant interest. "Oh all right," he decided obligingly, lazily slurring his words. "I'll help you kids out. After all," he continued with an awkward wink, "you're only young and in love once, am I right?" Clumsily he fumbled with his chain of keys until he found the right one. Even then he missed the keyhole three times before successfully locking the door. Draco and Ginny breathed deep sighs of relief.

"Thank you, Professor," Ginny whispered.

"Anytime," Snape mumbled. "Hey, you two wanna get high? I've got this special blend--"

"Uh, no thanks," Draco said quietly, blushing at the strangeness of their situation.

Ginny touched Draco's arm softly as she thought about how they could get out of this situation. There was no way Draco's father would ever allow them to be together under any terms. Unless... Maybe their was a way for them to be together with no one to stop them...

"Professor," she asserted, shuddering nervously. "Do you have any potions by way of... poison?" She could immediately see Draco tense up.

"Poison?" both Snape and Draco asked at the same time, Snape rather carelessly but Draco tensely.

Draco gripped her arm fiercely. "Poion?" he repeated fearfully, searching Ginny's face.

She nodded, and tears quickly spilled down her cheeks. "I feel like we have no choice, Draco," she said softly. She touched his face so tenderly he could barely feel it. "I love you so much. This way no one can keep us apart."

Draco examined her beautiful emerald eyes, but still couldn't believe what she was suggesting. "By killing ourselves? Isn't there another way?" he asked gruffly, trying to conceal the tears that were brimming in his eyes.

Ginny kissed him on the cheek. "Not with our families," she whispered in his ear. It was unbelievable that even when she was discussing their deaths, a tingle of excitement ran through his body just by their closeness. He wrapped his arms around her tightly, hoping to never let go.

"I love you, Ginny," he murmured.

Sobs racked her slender body. "And I love you. Forever," she choked out.

Draco somehow managed to swallow his own sobs and kiss her passionately for what he knew was the last time. It was unfair; fate had brought them together, and now it was trying to tear them apart too quickly. But they couldn't let that happen, and so their lives would be tragically cut short. And all for the name of love.

He turned to Snape. "Poison," he grunted, barely feeling the tears that were gliding down his cheeks.

"Ah, a fine choice," Snape smirked as if he were a car salesman selling the most expensive car on the lot. "I'll just get you two goblets then." As he walked off, Draco could have sworn he heard him humming, "Do you know the Muffin Man?" Snape's behavior was quite peculiar, even for someone as high as he was.

Ginny looked up at Draco and her eyes glistened in the wandlight. "Are you scared?" she asked quietly.

Draco ran his fingers through her hair gently. "Yeah," he admitted. "But I'll be fine. This way we can be together." He glanced at the door, which his father was still pounding on, although far less enthusiastically than at first.

She nodded and rested her head on his chest. "Good," she murmured.

Footsteps came up behind them, and Snape knelt to hand them both large goblets filled with a steamy green poison. They both grabbed one and and looked up at Snape tentatively, nervous about taking the final step. Snape gestured largely. "Go on kids! It's a special blend I always have in stock, just in case," he commented with another strange wink.

Clutching Draco's free hand with hers, Ginny smiled weakly. "Ready?" she managed to say. Her face looked somehow younger and more fragile than it ever had before.

Without answering, Draco choked out, "I love you," for the last time and began to raise his goblet to his lips.

"I know," she whispered, doing the same with hers.

It was all over in an instant. The two young people slumped over, still clutching the other's hand, almost as if nothing had happened. Except their eyes were vacant and lifeless, and their breath stopped in their throats. The two bodies sat there for a long while, and all Snape could do was stare at them.

Finally he spoke. "Am I incredibly stoned, or is this going to be hard to explain?" he muttered. "Or both?" he added, eyeing his bong once again.


	5. More than One Imposter

CHAPTER FIVE

Even before McGonagal made the announcement, the entire school seemed to know the news. Draco Malfoy and Ginny Weasley were dead, their lives taken by their own hands. Sympathetic eyes were cast at the Griffindor and Slytherin tables. For the first time in the history of Hogwarts, snide remarks and malicious chortles weren't thrown between the two houses. Instead of throwing blame around and pointing fingers, all of the students bonded together in mutual sorrow at losing two of their best students.

Ron said nothing at dinner, but just stared at the chicken leg on his plate and shivered in silent pain. Harry gripped his hand tightly and refused to let it go, even when the red head tried to shove him away. Professor McGonagal stared out at the sea of students with a deep sense of regret in her eyes. Somehow the Great Hall seemed empty without the cool smirk of Draco and the bright, cheerful smile of Ginny. Taking a deep breath, she raised one gold knife to her wine goblet and clinked to call for silence. They all fell in the hole of quiet almost instantly.

"Last night, we lost two of our very best students," she started out. A few kids sniffed, and Ginny's best friend Amanda Bloom sobbed loudly. To her great surprise, Crabbe reached across the isle and patted her comfortingly on the shoulder with a meaty hand. "Draco Malfoy and Ginny Weasley were both amazing students and wonderful people. They will both be missed. I think we should take this opportunity to examine our own lives, and our own happiness. I'm sure Draco and Ginny wouldn't want us to make the same fatal decision they made..."

Harry felt Ron tense in his hand, and then he burst.

"This is total bullshit!" Ron yelled out. All eyes in the room focused solely on him. Hearts everywhere broke even more at the overwhelming pain etched on his face. Slowly he rose up, staring each and every person in the eye. McGonagal didn't even try to stop him. "You wanna know why they killed themselves? Because they were in love, and they couldn't be together. Because Malfoy was rich and we're poor, because he was a Slytherin and she a Griffindor, and no one would accept them."

Several people shifted uncomfortably in their seats and tried to look away, but Ron glared fiercely at them. "But honestly people, what's the big deal? Slytherins and Griffindors have hated each other for years, and what has it gotten us? My sister is dead, and it's because of everyone's hate. I say that's shit. Why can't we just be civilized and stop hating each other? Stop discriminating against each other?"

His strong voice echoed through the rafters, and resonated through the hearts of everyone in the room. In the silence gaping, a nameless Slytherin voice screamed out, "Griffindor rules!" A general uproar erupted from the Slytherin table after that: shouts of praise, whistles, applause, all directed towards the house that was fomerly their nemesis.

Harry filled with pride at this and smiled up at Ron. He caused this. His beautiful, wonderful boyfriend had, using the grief thrown at him by fate, breached the rift that generations had opened. The brown-haired wizard stood up then, next to Ron, and laced their their fingers together right there, in front of the entire school. It was time everyone else knew. Ron smiled over at him sweetly, and lifted their hands to his lips and kissed the back of Harry's gently. Whispers arose around them and for a moment the room felt hushed, but the shock quickly passed and Seamus Finnegan whistled loudly and began to applaud. Even Hermione, who hadn't smiled for real in months, started giggling like a little girl, and applauded for her two best friends. Kara Naber, a little blonde girl from Slytherin house, stood up on the table with Colin Creevey. Holding hands, they began spinning around in mad circles, knocking over plates of food and goblets as they went. For the first time since he received the news of his sister's death, Ron felt a marvelous sense of happiness. In the wake of such a horrible tragedy, a wonderful revelation had occurred.

Darkness consumed the courtyard, giving way only to the silvery curtain of moonlight that swept down onto the grass and stone of the ground. As the rest of the students continued on in their almost-drunken revelries, Harry and Ron stole away to the solitude of this empty place, desperate for a moment alone. Half-mad with desire and raging hormones, Harry dragged ron into the silent square and shoved him forcefully onto a marble bench. He jumped him instantly, half-tackling him and crushing their lips together. Ron lay half-reclined on the bench, eyes shut in pleasure, as Harry moved lower, reining kisses along his jawline. His deft fingers worked quickly to unfasten his tie and moved to pull the hem of his shirt from the waist band of his charcoal pants. Heat flared up from where his fingertips brushed against his pale skin. Ron's breath caught as Harry brought their lips together and kissed him so deeply his head spun.

"Harry," Ron breathed out his name huskily, and shifted so that Harry was half laying on top of him...

"Ow ow!" a cackling shout shattered the thick atmosphere. Instantly Harry pulled away and both boys looked up, horrified, to see three students staring down at them with huge grins. Ron sighed and leaned back, disappointed. Another perfectly wonderful moment ruined.

"Yep," he muttered. "We're cursed."

Harry let out a shaky laugh and squeezed Ron's hand a final time. Damn it all to hell. It was hopeless.

"I just thought of something," Harry burst out suddenly. Ron and Hermione looked up curiously. "Cho," Harry continued, gesturing animatedly.

Ron glanced at Hermione in confusion. "What about Cho?"

"The curse!" he shook his head disbelievingly. "It was her this whole time! I can't believe I didn't think of this sooner..."

Hermione stopped him, hesitantly putting her hand on Harry's shoulder. "Are you sure Cho could... do something like this? It's be an awfully complicated spell..."

Harry frowned at her. "Look, I know it's her; I feel it in my gut, okay? You should've seen her face when me and Ron kissed in the Great Hall!" he ranted. "It's gotta be her, I've got to go find her!" Jumping up, he ran out of the room and into the hallway. He heard Ron and Hermione's footsteps close behind him.

He'd know something was up the moment he'd seen Cho run out of the assembly that day. Her beautiful, brown-flecked eyes had filled with tears that ran down her smooth, soft face, the face that Harry had once desired so much. But even last year seemed like miles away from today. He'd been a different person, and so had she. Still, it was hard to believe that Cho could do such a thing to him, but who else could it be? Who could want Ron and Harry apart more than she would?

His feet pounded on the floor beneath him as he rounded the last flight of stairs. Heart beating like a madman, he spotted one of Cho's friends, Diana, he thought her name was.

"Hey," Harry panted. He knew he must look a mess with his face all flushed and robes twisted around his legs, but at the moment he didn't care. "D'ya know where Cho is?"

"Diana" smiled, her dark eyes shining with humor, as if she knew a secret that she was dying to share with him. "I dunno," she said, though he was quite positive she did know, "but I think she went down the hallway to the left with Seamus Finnigan."

Something in that struck a chord with Harry, but he didn't pay much attention to it. He dashed in the direction the girl had described. Unfortunately, it was a long, narrow hallway with five doors. Really. Harry was not in the mood to play "choose the right door."

He opened one door. It was completely empty. Going on to the next one, he found McGonagal and Crabbe going at it in a corner. He gasped and quickly shut the door in shock. "Ookay," he murmured. Hermione and Ron came up behind him.

"What is it?" Ron asked.

Harry shook his head laughingly. "Don't ask. Just don't go in there."

When he came to the next door, his laughter was growing again. From the sounds coming from inside this room (which he knew was a closet), there were people having _sex _in there. Loudly, as well. Which pretty much ruled out Cho and Seamus... Unless...

He jerked the door open. Two naked, sweaty bodies stared out at him, seemingly paralyzed. Every one of their limbs was entangled. Cho's smooth, pretty face and amber eyes, that Harry had envisoned just a moment before, gaped at him in shock. Seamus on the other hand, glared at Harry angrily. His face was flushed and he had red lipstick rubbed all around his mouth.

Harry couldn't move. Even if he had imagined this situation, he couldn't have imagined how much it hurt him. He was over Cho completely; he loved Ron now, only wanted to be with him. So what was this deep, gut-wrenching pain that was tightening in his chest? Was he actually resentful that Cho had found someone after him?

He wasn't sure, but he couldn't bring himself to shut the door again. His hand balled up into a fist as he stood there awkwardly.

Finally Seamus spoke. "Harry, what are you doing, standing there?" he hissed. "Shut the door!" His face was slowly reddening.

Somehow Seamus's words brought Harry back to reality. He slammed the door and turned stiffly around to face Ron and Hermione. Ron's eyes studied Harry's face significantly, brows pulled together in worry. Hermione, on the other hand, stood staring at the door much as Harry had, eyes wide in shock. Tears brimmed in her eyes, and she blinked quickly to rid herself of them.

"I'm sorry, I've gotta go," she whispered, her voice thick. She turned on her heels and ran off.

"W-what was that about?" Harry stuttered, dazed and confused.

Ron faced him squarely, still studying his face. "I don't know," he said slowly, suspiciously. "What _was_ that about?"

Hermione shuddered and tried to fight back the sobs that were racking her body, but she couldn't. Seamus... with Cho... not her? She'd thought... She'd _hoped..._ She wasn't sure what she'd expected, but all she knew was seeing Seamus with someone else was just so painful, so wrong. Suddenly she found herself remembering the way she felt with him, like she was beautiful and classy, not like the school tramp.

She remembered his face as he sat in that closet, the bitter expression that crossed his face as soon as his eyes met her face. Did he really hate her that much? Did he really want to be with Cho after all they'd shared? Could he ever look at her again the way he did once?

She shook her head. She couldn't think about it right now. _She'd _rejected _him. _She didn't want to be in a relationship beyond their sexuality... At least that was what she'd thought, but now her jealousy was unbearably painful. Swallowing tightly, she began to desperately crave attention. She'd vowed to change her ways, but her desires were always so much stronger than her will. She had to get out of there. But where would she go?

Professor Snaps's room, she decided. He knew exactly what she wanted from him. There was no emotion conflict like with Seamus...

No. No! She wouldn't think about that. She had to get to his chambers, and quickly. She tugged up her skirt readily and ran as quickly as she could down the halls, not paying attention to the strange looks she was getting. She wiped away tears and knocked on the roughly-edged door slightly nervously. To her surprise, it opened on its own.

Shyly, Hermione stepped inside his room. It ws sparsely decorated; the only pieces of furniture in the entire place were a lamp, a bed frame, and a dark, fuzzy rug. But, she knew from experience, it served him well when he put it to use.

She moved towards the sound coming from his bathroom, ready to come up behind him and surprise him. He seemed to be talking to himself in a maniacal way, a way that sent chills down her spine. She'd never heard him like this before... She was catching on to what he was saying...

"The pathetic boy... The stupid, pathetic boy!" he was crying out, not loudly but with clear menace. "Going after his ex-girlfriend... As if that imbecile could ever pull off something that complicated!" Hermione gasped as she realized Snaps was talking about Harry. It was as if he knew who was cursing Harry, and he was allowing it. Maybe even taking part in it. "Potter, Potter, Potter..." He was laughing now, harshly. "Accusing that pathetically insecure girl... That _Hermione..._ Of doing it! She couldn't possibly have done it with all the time she spends whoring herself out to every guy in the school! He's not even close to the truth!" She inhaled sharply, and tears filled her eyes. This couldn't come at a worse time. A stabbing pain sparked through her chest. "He'll never know... And never be able to stop me... How could her, with my excellent disguise?... Lord Voldemort has finally won!"

Hermione gasped again and stupidly stepped into the bathroom from behind him. She knew it was dangerous, but her anger and hurt overrided her concern for her own well-being. If she didn't stop him... Lord Voldemort, it seemed... Harry could be in great danger. But stepping inside, the Professor--er, Voldemort-- looked totally different than he did before.

Of course, she had never seen him out of drag, but in her strangest dream, she couldn't have imagined him looking like he did. Long, pale fingers were tightly balled into sharp-knuckled fists with petruding blackened nails. His black _man's _robe failed to hide the frail, skeletal structure of his shoulders and arms. In the mirror, she looked at the black, insect-like eyes that she had actually been _attracted _to before, now sticking out pointedly in a sunken, yellowed face, his think bloodred lips curled into a menacing growl. It was frightening, the magic of make-up.

Shaking, she tried to back out of the room, but in the mirror, Voldemort's eyes met hers coldly. A sense of dread filled her chest as his face became more sane, more under control. Somehow this only made him more alarming.

"Hello, Hermione," his inhuman voice growled.

She gulped, panicked eyes looking around for an escape. "I've got to leave," she explained hurriedly, and turned to run away. His bony fingers grabbed her arm.

"Leaving so soon?" The now unfamiliar, thin lips of Voldemort pouted. "But we never even started... you know..." He pushed her against the wall with surprising strength, pressing the length of his body painfully against her. Tears began to run down her face, and she couldn't bear to met his eyes.

Hermione stared at the floor. "Please," she begged, "please, let me go. I swear I won't tell Harry... Or anyone... Please?" She somehow willed her eyes to meet his beady, evil ones. "Please?" she asked again, her voice once again thick with tears.

At first his only response was a bitter laugh. Then he spoke chillingly: "You are a terrible liar, girl. Something will have to be done with you..."

"Please," she interrupted. "Don't kill me! Didn't you like me?..." When she got no response, she broke down. "Oh God!" she cried. "Oh God, I'm going to die!" She slumped into Voldemort's clinging grasp, giving up. Her chest tightened in pain and she couldn't breathe for fear of dying. This was it. Would Harry and Ron even notice if she was gone? Probably not. She effectively cut out any trace of friendship she had with anyone over the summer, and now she would die in the horribly empty world she had created. Hermione squeezed her eyes shut and waited for the pain to come...

Wood splinter against wood as the door was thrown open and the deafening bang resonated through the room. Both Voldemort and Hermione frozed mid-action and stared towards the door to see Professor Snape stumbling in, a joint in hand, obviously stoned off his ass. In a reflex, the Dark Lord let go of Hermione, and she scrambled toward the exit, but Snape was too far gone to notice anything wrong. Voldemort lunged back towards the banity in his bathroom and grabbed a silk floral robe and quickly threw it on over his black cape. The red wig was shoved on next, though it was so hastily put on it did nothing to hide the greasy black strands that poked out underneath.

"Professor Snape," Voldemort raise his voice up to the octave of a screech owl and clutched the robe shut with bony fingers. Hermione looked frightened for a moment, more at his sudden attitude change than the fact that her life had just been threatened. Then, without another look back, she ran out of the room into the hallway. In a final attempt at saving his reputation, Voldemort drew his wand out of his robes and whispered the Imperius curse fiercely. One sizzling back bolt of energy shot past the unhinged professor and struck an unsuspecting Hermione squarely in the back.


	6. General Disorder

CHAPTER SIX

It was hours later before Hermione stumbled into the common room with her hair disheveled and her clothes rumpled. Most people would've assumed exactly what they always did: that she snuck out at night to fuck yet another student. The glazed blankness in her face gave away a different story however, and it was something Harry noticed immediately upon her entrance. He and Ron were cuddling on the couch when they were interrupted--as usual-- by their best friend. What tipped him off was the wretching pain that started in his scar and traveled all the way down the length of his spine.

"Hermione?" He gently sat up, but refused to let go of Ron. "What's wrong?"

She said nothing as she continued to stagger into the room. It seemed as if she were heading towards the fire, but it was clear that she had no sense of what she'd run into along the way. His concern only deepened when she ran smack dab into the table behind the couch, then swerved to hit the overstuffed chair.

"Shit." He sprang to his feet, effectively knocking Ron to the floor. He advanced forward and grabbed her by the shoulders just as she was lunging forward into the fire. "Hermione, talk to me."

For a moment longer she struggled towards the fire, blankness in her eyes. Then she suddenly collapsed in his arms in a trembling, quivering mass. Shortly after her strange snap, Hermione was overcome with exhaustion and asked to be taken upstairs. She was asleep in Harry's arms before they even reached her bed.

"That was bloody frightening," Ron commented as they walked downstairs and settled onto the couch, this time not intimately. "What the hell was the matter with her?"

Harry stared at the fire a moment and shuddered. "I have no idea," Harry replied breathily. "But we've got to figure it out for her sake if nothing else."

Professor Snape stumbled into the Potions dungeon, feeling a satisfying rush as his head succombed to a dizzy high. Jesus, what was in that pipe Ginger gave him anyway? Whew. Well, whatever it was, it was the greatest stuff he'd ever smoked. Or snorted. Or injected. Or.... nevermind.

That professor... Ginger Snaps, it was... There was definitely someting different about her. At first he'd foudn her remotely attractive, but after seeing her last night, he was genuinely afraid of her. Of course, after the girl had left, the hairy-legged professor had warmed right up to him. She gave him The Stuff, whatever it was. And she'd smiled and flirted and giggled, but even in the state Snape was in, he could see something under the act. It was just a glimmer of truth in the corner of his mind, but it was there. Professor Snaps was hiding something, something dark. Snape would try to find out what it was once this incredible high went away.

What had happened to the girl anyway? Hermione, that was... she'd run away... Snaps had called out a spell, but Snape had been humming to himself and hadn't heard what it was... There was too much to think about, and not enough brain cells to spare.

He heard a crash and winced harshly as the pounding in his head reached a peak. A moment later he realized that it was him who had tripped on a chair. He was even further gone than he thought...

The door jerked open and slammed against the wall. McGonagall stomped in, with Dumbledore creakily toe-stepping behind her. McGonagal's normally calm, reserved face was flushed and worried, and her fists were clenched tightly at her sides, as if she were nervous for some reason. Snape vaguely wondered what was up with her.

"Professor Snape," she said hurriedly. "I must speak to you about a matter of utmost importance."

Snape rolled his dark, bloodshot eyes. "Well, I'm sorry dear, but I've no time." He pointed to his bong that was hovering in midair. "I've got to get to work," he added with a wink.

She quickly moved away from Dumbledore (who was breathing heavily behind her) and slammed her fists on Snape's desk. "This is not a time for games!" she spat, anger surging through every word. "This is a serious matter!" The expression on her face was so intense that he nearly backed away. Nearly, but not quite.

"All right, all right, spit it out," Snape growled lazily. "But make it quick."

McGonagal's anger faded away quickly and turned into something else. It was a strange mixture of hope, fear, and confusion. "Professor... I'm pregnant," she said softly.

The first thing that Snape did was think back as far as he could. After all, there could be a possibility that he was the father. But no... He didn't remember anything about that... "You should speak with someone else then. Perhaps the father..." he continued as if it were the most obvious solution in the world.

She frowned, but the fear was still there. "That's just it, Severus..." Her voice clogged and she cleared her throat. "I don't know who the father is."

Now _that _was funny. In Snape's freakishly high state, it seemed the most humorous situation in the world, in fact. He began to chuckle, and the chuckle soon turned into roaring laughter that he couldn't stop if he tried. McGonagal stared in dismay as he fell off his chair and rolled on the floor, clutching his sides, unable to stop. Finally, still chuckling hoarsely, he somehow managed to climb back onto his chair. "Well, what'd'ya need me for?" he grunted.

"Well you _are _the Potions master. You could do a certain test for me. A DNA test, as muggles say."

Snape considered this. "And... who would I be testing?"

McGonagal's face tightened. "The entire male population at Hogwarts."

Again, his insane laughter captured his breathing. This was going ot be a very, very long week.

Classes were cancelled the next day for unknown reasons. All any of the students were informed of was that all of the boys needed to report to the Great Hall for testing. Everyone except for Harry and Ron.

"This is bullshit!" Colin Creevey stated loudly as they walked through the giant doors. "Why do Harry and Ron get off this? And why don't the girls have to come?"

"Beats me," Seamus drawled out.

Lines were forming between the tables. All the boys were twitching nervously, murmuring possible explanations amongst themselves. Up where the head tables were, they had erected curtains to block off whatever they were conducting beyond their borders. As the line progressed and Colin got further, the white curtain finally revealed its secrets. His eyes bulged out of his head at the sight of boys peeing.

"Bloody hell," he murmured as he took it all in. Boys from all years and houses were attempting to pee in little plastic cups. About half never even hit the cup, and, heads bowed in shame, had to try again. Streak and splatters of yellow liquid dotted the floor faster than a disgusted Mr. Filch could clean it up. Most of the male teachers were monitoring the boys while McGonagal stood in the corner, wringing her hands nervously.

"Not a very good aim, are you there Wormwood?" Snape snorted as a rather terrified fourth year Ravenclaw kept missing the cup. When finally his stream had ended, the little container was only about a third full. He looke apologetically over at Snape and mumbled out, "Here, I'll try again.

But Snape held up a bony hand and waved him off. "Don't embarrass yourself."

The boy looked on the verge of tears as he zipped up his pants with trembling fingers and quickly walked away. Colin gulped in a mouthful of air as he stepped up. It was his turn.

"Ah, Mr. Creevey," his professor said uninterestedly. "Well, you know the procedure. Drop your drawers."

Colin just stood there for a long moment, staring at his teacher with a sort of disbelieving shock. Snape's gaze was fuzzy and disoriented.

"Come on now, we don't have all day," he said with a thick voice as if drunk. Colin jumped in surprise, almost as if snapped from a trance, and fumbled for his zipper.

"Try and hit the cup," Snape instructed, and beside them Professor Flitwick chuckled. Colin brushed off their comments and just concentrated on peeing. Right as the first droplets were starting to come, Snape looked down and choked on laughter. "Are you sure that thing can make it past your zipper?" he snickered, making Colin flush a deep red, barely able to aim with his shaking fingers.

He managed to fill the cup mainly, and when he dared glance back at Snape, he was happily surprised to see an expression of disbelief on the professor's face. "Very well," Snape growled. "Move on."

Smiling to himself, Colin nodded and left the Great Hall quickly without looking back. This whole charade was so surreal... Colin had to wonder what this ordeal was about. On the other hand, he was sure that all would be revealed by the end of this year at Hogwarts. Somehow it always was.

"What is going on?" Harry demanded once again, pointing at Hermione's twitching and zoned-out eyes that weren't even watching Professor Snaps's lecture on the proper application of defensive magic. "She usually can't get enough of these things."

Ron shook his head, sending his shaggy red locks flying. "Something's changed that's for sure. But you saw her face when she saw Cho and Seamus... you know. She's probably just still wiggy from that," he guessed, shrugging. "Well, more wiggy than normal." He glanced again at Hermione, but quickly gave up, rolling his eyes and forcing the worry out of his mind.

The other boy flinch at the mention of Cho's name. Cho, the girl who had gotten away. He shoved it off his mind and tried to concentrate on the sweet, perfect boyfriend he had right in front of him. Ron was all he really needed. "I don't know," Harry insisted. "She must be getting worse or something... I mean, you saw her that night." He thought back three nights ago, when this had all began. The look on her face had been so terrible. Hermione had looked tortured... caged. Harry was quite sure he'd never seen anything like it. Although there was something sort of familiar about it...

"Yeah, she was looking pretty dreadful," Ron agreed. "But what can we do?"

"Talk to her."

Ron laughed at Harry's bluntness. "That works. After class?" he suggested.

"After class," Harry assented.

He turned his attention back to Professor Snaps, whose normally cheerful disposition was rather sullen and serious today. In fact, as Harry looked closer, he saw the drag queen's overly-lined lips twitching much as Hermione's eyes were. Snaps's beady black eyes seemed to be avoiding contact with hers as well. Maybe there were troubles with their sleeping arrangement or something...

"... only use in case of a near death situation. Otherwise, you may injure an innocent spellcaster..." the Professor was saying, but this struck Harry as rather odd. This wasn't what his other teachers had told him about using defensive magic, excepting Umbridge of course. Tentatively, Harry raised his hand.

Snaps continued with his lecture for a moment before noticing him. Once Snaps noticed, he narrowed his eyes and smiled menacingly. "Potter, you have a comment?" he asked smugly.

"Yes, Professor. Well, actually it's more of a question, really. My question is, shouldn't we use defensive magic if someone is casting a non-lethal harmful spell as well? It wouldn't make sense to do it after a lethal spell had taken place. We'd be dead!" Harry pointed out.

The professor's pinched face flinched at his words, and he seemed unable to speak for amoment. Then his high voice became an inhuman growl, and Harry's scar shot with pain. "You wouldn't be dead," Snaps snapped, "if you didn't meddle with forces stronger than you. Isn't that right, Harry boy?"

It took all of Harry's self-control not to scream. Sharp, violent pinpricks of pain shot from his scar throughout his body. His scar had hurt before of course, but never like this. There was something about Snaps... But as he glanced up at the professor, another jolt of pain shocked him. He keeled over, falling off the chair, barely hearing the gasps of his classmates as his head struck the ground.

"Harry?" Ron asked anxiously, kneeling beside him and kissing his ruffled black hair. "Harry, what's wrong? Tell me!" He glanced up at Hermione, who was still blankly staring into space, and then at the professor, who was showing no sign of concern at all. "What did you do, Snaps?" Ron shouted angrily. "What did you do?"

Professor Snaps's face relaxed and became more cordial. "Nothing," he said simply, his voice once again a high-pitched squeal.

The pain in his scar was lessening, and Harry clutched his forehead and stumbled up to his feet. Ron grasped his arm for support and helped him back to his seat while everyone in class stared. "I'm fine," Harry insisted, his voice ragged. "It was just my scar."

Snaps plastered a huge, phony smile on his face before addressing the class again. "Well, if Harry is all right now, I'll continue..." he began, and went on to finish his lecture with the entire class gaping at him as if he were insane. Harry was extremely relieved when Snaps finally said those three treasured words: "You are dismissed."

Stumbling, Harry headed for the door with Ron by his side. "Hermione! Wait up!" he heard Ron say beside him, reminding him that they'd decided to talk to her after class. He'd forgotten in all his panic.

Hermione's figure, five feet ahead, stopped suddenly. Harry and Ron jogged to catch up. "What's up, Hermione?" Ron asked. "Are you okay?" Concern was etched all over his face; even in his exhausted state, Harry could appreciate how cute that was.

Her eyes met his, but they were empty, vacant. "I'm good. Let's talk about it outside," she said stiffly.

"What?" Harry asked anxiously and more quietly."Do you not want to say in front of snaps?" He glanced back at their professor, who was now zoning out, his bony hands making seemingly random jerks.

Hermione just shook her head and stomped out into the corridor. The boys followed her quickly, trying hard (but not succeeding) not to look panicked. Once they were outside, Ron laughed aloud as he came to a conclusion suddenly. "I know what it is!" Ron exclaimed. "You haven't gotten any in a few days, have you? I bet you've got sexual withdrawal or something!" He glance at Harry, looking for approval. Harry just shrugged.

But Hermione shook her head again. "You guys should just leave this alone," she muttered. "It's not big deal." Seeing their disbelief, she rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Don't believe me. But I've got to meet Colin by Trelawney's room. He probably wants to have sex. Again." Somehow her words seemed lifeless in a way her friends had never heard before, as if she were playing a part.

Harry watched as Ron grew angry, his face flushing beet red. "What happened to the Hermione we used to know? The one who told us everything she felt?" He gestured wildly into space. "Look, if you're hurting because of Seamus, you can tell us. We're your best friends! We'll listen..."

But she lay an unemotional hand on Ron's shoulder. "I'm not hurting. Just leave it be," she said quietly. They watched as Hermione walked away, slightly pigeon-toed.

Confusion flashed through Harry's mind. "Ron?" he asked softly. "Have you ever actually heard Hermione use the word, 'sex' before?"

"You know, I don't think I have," Ron responded, staring in shock at her retreating form.

Harry glance back at the door to their DADA class in thought. "Something weird is definitely going on here. And I think it has something to do with Snaps."

McGonagal straightened her crisp, pressed robes and tried to look relaxed. She knew who the father of her baby was and now she just had to confront him, as much as it displeased her. She only hoped he didn't take the news too hard. It would be quite a shock for the poor soul.

Her hands tested on the growing baby just below her stomach. If nothing else, the father would respect her needs. He'd always done that; in fact, she'd often controlled him. And McGonagal honestly believed he could be a good father if he put his mind to it. He was very good with children.

Strolling along at what she hoped was a confident gait, McGonagal stepped inside the Great Hall, where the evening feast had just begun. Now was the time to confess everything, to get it out in the open. Now was the time to confront her baby's daddy, ad the entire school, in one sitting. Her nervousness nearly consumed her. She moved to her place at the table but didn't sit. She cleared her throat, but none of the students paid any mind. They continued to talk amongst themselves. Finally, she shrieked, "Silence!" The Great Hall was suddenly entirely silent.

"I have an announcement to make," she started, infusing false bravenss into her voice. She looked out onto the student body, many of whom she'd slept with, apprehensively. "As some of you know, I have had... relations with several males at this school, not including teachers..." Some students gasped while others laughed. Still others looked nervous, as though she would expel them or relower their grades with the coming news. "It's not something I'm proud of," she continued. "But it all ends here, because you see... I'm pregnant."

Silence seemed to echo in the Hall as potential fathers bit their nails and those unaware of these goings-ons were silent with shock. "The father isn't a student, thank God," she informed them, alleviating some fear in the room. "It is... in fact... Professor Dumbledore!" She looked nervously at the headmaster, flashing a weak smile.

Murmurs came from all over the student body. "Guess that Viagra really works," Ron commented to a rather confused Neville. Harry snorted with laughter.

Dumbledore did not move. His eyes were locked on McGonagal's, but not a muscle in his body changed a position. Everyone stared at him in confusion. Wasn't he going to react somehow? It was unnatural for him to just sit there like he was.

"'Ey, congratulations!" Hagrid said finally, slapping Dumbledore's back loudly. Dumbledore's stiff body slid off his chair and slumped ofrward into his tray of food. His lifeless eyes stared into nowhere. Hagrid's face described the shock of everyone in that room as he shouted, "'E's dead!"

A roar of chaos overtook the Hall as everyone grieved the death of the beloved headmaster in their own way. Harry hugged Ron tightly and didn't fight the tears that ran down his cheeks, but he couldn't help glance at Hermione, who still stared at McGonagal as if she had more to say. No emotion crossed her face.

But McGonagal slumped back into her chair. The father of her baby was dea. She knew she was in for a long road ahead, raising her child on her own. How would she ever do it? And would she be able to control her pedifile tendencies on her own?

She put the thoughts out of her mind. Now was not the time to think of such things. Now was a time to cry.

Still tired and uneasy from crying so long, Ron managed to grab Harry's hand and pull him out of their room. He was done with this. The curse, and then Hermione, and then Dumbledore's death... Ron could sure use a few kisses from Harry now, but he knew it was an impossibility. He was going to stop this impediment in his life right now. And he knew exactly who to confront-- Professor Snaps.

Harry's bloodshot, perfect eyes questioned his quietly. "Look, just trust me," Ron grunted, his voice raw. "Snaps did this. I don't know why, but he did."

They rushed down the narrow hallway, ignoring the glances of annoyances from the pictures, many of whom were still grieving. Nearing the fireplace, they spotted Hermione sitting in the huge cushioned chair, and snatched her up as well. She was obviously involved in this somehow.

"What's going on?" Hermione snapped. "Where are you--?"

"Just play along," Ron told her between heavy breaths. She complied stubbornly.

When they reached Snaps's room, they banged on his door immediately. The professor came to the door in a pink, fuzzy bathrobe that revealed far too much of his large, bony legs. His beady eyes met each of theirs, and his body stiffened significantly at the sight of Hermione.

Ron stared at Snaps with all the hate he was capable of feeling. Right now he could have strangled the drag queen. "Hermione wants sex," Ron declared, then adding, "Just kidding," before shoving the skinny professor into his room. Harry followed close behind with Hermione closing the door.

Ron shoved the man against the wall harshly. "You cursed us," he spat. "And you did something to Hermione as well." Snaps didn't respond, and frustration boiled over inside of Ron. He pulled out his wand and pressed its tip to Snaps's neck. "I _will _kill you if you don't tell me what you did," Ron growled angrily. Snaps's eyes lost focus for a moment, and Hermione suddenly slumped to the floor.

Her eyes filled with real emotion for the first time in days. "Ron, get away from him!" she shrieked, tears gushing down her cheeks. "Snaps is Voldemort!"

Shock clutched Ron's chest, and he dropped his wand with his locked-up hands. Slowly he backed away, hands raised shakily. "You are?" he whispered.

Snaps nodded slowly, removing his wig. His shiny black hair reflected the light from the window.

"Hermione?" Harry asked from behind Ron.

"Yeah?"

"You slept with Voldemort?" His voice sounded betrayed and disgusted.

Hermione considered this. "He wasn't that bad, actually. He did this thing with his tongue..."

Harry grimaced. "Okay, that's enough," he insisted. He snatched his wand and pointed it at the newly revealed Voldemort. "You knew Ron was the most important thing in my life. You knew that I would be too distracted to notice you infiltrating the school if I couldn't be with him. That's why you did it, isn't it?" he questioned loudly, his eyes penetrating ahead. "Isn't that why you cursed is?"

Voldemort laughed wickedly, no fear in his tiny black eyes. "The curse I used was supposed to frustrate you, that's all!" He glanced between Harry and Ron. "It figures that with teenagers, the curse would inflict _sexual _frurstration..."

"Shut up!" Harry yelled, and felt his anger growing inside of him. A heat in his chest built and swelled until Harry felt as though he would explode. Voldemort had taken away his parents, and now he would try to take away the love of his life? All these weeks, all these months, Harry could have been with Ron if not for the curse that Voldemort tossed off as if it were insignificant? "What did you intend to do all this time?" he hissed, glaring at his former teacher.

"Rid myself of my biggest obstacle," Voldemort admitted. Seeing the three teenagers' blank stares, he added, "You, Harry." He frowned. "I would have done it sooner had I not been distracted by a certain member of the femal population of the school," he spat, glaring at Hermione. "Oh well, I'll get it over with now..."

Harry snorted with disbelief. "I'm the one with the wand here. I believe _I'll _do the killing, if anyone." But as he stared into Voldemort's eyes, he began to doubt his own words. This man--this creature--had pulled himself out of far more dangerous situations than this and come out victorious. A fear replaced his anger, and Harry nearly stepped back.

"Remember, Harry," Voldemort instructed. "You have to mean it."

Suddenly his leg lashed out and knocked Harry to the ground. His wand clattered beside him. Quickly there was a mad scramble to pick up the wand, but in the end, Voldemort stood pointing Harry's own wand at him. Harry rose shakily to his feet.

"Goodbye, Harry," Voldemort growled.

Time seemed to slow as Harry looked into his nemesis's eyes, unable to hide his fear. He truly would die at the hands of Voldemort, just as it had been foretold all those years ago. He just wished he could be with Ron one last time, to hol him, to be held, even if just for a moment.

"Avada--" Voldemort was saying.

Distantly, Harry heard Ron's voice, as if in a dream. He turned his head to see Ron's angelic face drawn tight, his sweet mouth shouting words that Harry couldn't hear, not truly. Ron's wand was falling through the air, and by instinct, Harry snatched it in midair, just like he had caught a Snitch so many times before. _Just like a Snitch, _Harry thought, barely registering that Voldemort's spell flew into the wall behind him.

Harry spun around, wand drawn, to face Voldemort once again, this time without fear. He felt bitterness, and anger, and frustration, but definitely not fear. At this moment he wanted Voldemort to die in a way he'd never felt before, and before he even realized it, he was saying the words he thought he'd never say. But he couldn't help himself. Rage was coursing through him uncontrollably.

"Avada Kedavra!" he shouted.

Light coursed from his wand into Voldemort's chest, searing through his pores. The evil wizard looked at Harry, fera in his eyes for once. But it was too late to change the spell that had been cast. Voldemort shrieked, light shining from his eyes, and then slumped to the floor unceremoniously.

Harry watched this happen in shock of his own power. He had... killed... Voldemort. Wizards had been trying to do that for decades, and a hormal teenage boy had been the only one to pull it off, just as he had destroyed his power when he was only a baby.

Not only had he killed his nemesis, he had used an Unforgivable Curse, Harry realized. They would put him in Azkaban for this. He would probably never see Ron again. They would take him away fro life, and he would never know love again. Only... dementors.

Sudden exhaustion dawning on him, Harry sank to the floor. "Ron," he murmured before blacking out.


	7. Finale

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Bottom of Form 1

CHAPTER SEVEN

Hermione straightened her conservative, knee-length skirt as her heels clicked on the marble floor. She was about to do what she should have done weeks ago. Talk to Seamus.

Even if he didn't believe she loved him, even if he still wanted to be with Cho, Hermione had to try to convince him that she was willing to change her ways for him. She could be a one man kind of woman for him. All she'd thought about while Voldemort had controlled her was Seamus, Seamus, Seamus. And she'd realized the extent of her feelings for him, which had been deeply rooted, even in their younger years at Hogwarts.

But the point was, even if Seamus turned her dow, which would hurt like hell, she would still be changed forever. She wouldn't depend on sex for confidence anymore. She might even try celibacy for a while.

Oh, there he was. Seamus stood ten feet ahead, his broad, handsome frame recognizable from the back. Hermione could just imagine those chocolate brown eyes boring into hers, reading her thoughts, making her knees shake. She would touch his freshly shaven face and softly bring his mouth to hers. And they could stand there for hours, not caring about people watching, never feeling forced into bed. Her nerves would be on high alert, every sensation perfect and real...

"Hermione?" Seamus's voice cut through her fantasy. He stared at her, surrounded by two friends she didn't recognize. Unfortunately his stare was quite unfriendly. "I know you visit the boys dormitory frequently, but you don't usually stop in the middle of the hall."

She blushed and tried to ignore the fresh batch of pain this sent through her heart. "Can we talk... alone?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Seamus groaned. "I told you Hermione, I don't want to do this anymore." His friends sniggered behind him.

Hermione took a couple hasty steps forward, and he backed away. "Seamus, please. This isn't about that, I swear. If I try anything, I give you permission never to speak to me again," she blurted out, trying to pump as much sincerity as possible into her face.

After what seemed minutes of consideration, he nodded slowly, to the shock of his friends. "Where do you want to talk?" he asked, although bitterness was still present in his voice.

"Is your room okay?" Seamus glanced irritatedly at her. "I don't know where else we can be alone," Hermione explained. "Is it okay?"

"Fine, fine," he consented, grumbling along the way.

Once inside the room, Hermione sat awkwardly on a chair under a bright light, magically illuminated. She felt liek she was in an interrogation room on one of those old Muggle TV shows. Shading her eyes, she looked up into Seamus's unfriendly ones.

"Well, what is it?" he demanded, still handsome through his anger.

Hermione gulped. "Seamus... It really hurt me, seeing you that day with Cho..."

"And what, you didn't hurt me?" Seamus shouted. "Why is it that you can sleep with all the boys in school and I can't even with my girlfriend?" His sharp glare dug into her.

"We weren't even dating..."

"So why are you jealous?" he questioned, his hands slamming on the arms of her chair. "Why do you even care?"

Hermione tried not to flinch. "Look, Voldemort put me under the Imperius Curse..."

He backed away from her at the sound of Voldemort's name. "Don't try to blame this on He-Who-Should-Not-Be-Named! You knew what you were doing when you made your choice!"

"I know, I know," Hermione sighed. "Just hear me out, okay?" She thought back to her days under the curse with a shudder. "Under the Imperius Curse, I wasn't able to... you know... experiment as much, and I had a lot of time to think." Staring at the floor, she cause a glance of Seamus's grimace in her peripheral vision and felt a stab of guilt for paining him. "The thing is, the only person I could think of was you. All the time, I was thinking, 'How could you be so stupid? How could you let him move on without you?'" Seamus glanced up in surprise, and Hermione fought the hints of a smile that were creeping onto her face. "I thought, 'If I survive this, I'll tell him how I really feel, how much I care. I can't keep lying to him.'" She gathered her thoughts but didn't speak.

The boy sat on the edge of the nearest bed and leaned in to hear her finish. "What did you lie about? How do you feel?" he asked softly, sensitively.

Hermione's eyes hesitantly met his. "We _should _be together. I love you more than anything, and I don't need anyone else." Quickly she stared at the floor again. "I guess I realized all this too late, but I still needed to tell you," she murmured as she stood and headed for the door.

"Stop," he said quietly. "It's not." His voice was closer behind her now.

"It's not what?" she asked, too ashamed to face him. She had poured her heart out to him and now would surely be rejected.

Now Seamus's breath was on her neck, just behind her. "Not too late," he whispered, trailing tiny kisses down the nape of her neck. She shivered.

She resisted reluctantly. "What about Cho?" she found herself asking.

"I broke up with her this morning. I couldn't be with her when all I could think about was you."

With this Hermione turned on her heels and, grinning and wrapping her arms around his neck, kissed him tenderly, relaxing for the first time in weeks. Electric tingles shot down her spine, and she didn't mind when he pressed his lips more urgently, more hungrily against hers. She responded in the same way, hormones and happiness combining into an almost sickening desire. Seamus's fingers brushed against her collarbone, and only then did she realize he was unbuttoning her shirt.

Ron had only left his, Harry's, Seamus's, and Dean's room for a moment to get flowers for Harry, but upon returning, he heard dull, rythmic thuds and moans coming from their room as he passed it. Curiously, he slowed in front of it to see if he could recognize a voice or name.

"Oh yes, Seamus!" a very familiar voice screamed out. Was it Cho's? But no, this girl's voice was raw, as if she'd been crying a lot lately. With a flash Ron realized whose voice he'd heard. It was Hermione's. That girl sure did get around when she put her mind to it.

Laughing, he continued towards the hospital wing. Harry had been sleeping there for about a day and half now, but Madam Pomfrey insisted that he was fine and just need a good, long rest. And Ron was going to be sure that when Harry finally woke, he not only would have flowers to remind him how much Ron cared, but also... hopefully... Ron himself. He could only hope that Harry would wait to wake until Ron arrived.

His footsteps quickened down the hallway at this thought. What if Harry was already awake? What if he had woken to a cold, empty room with no one to comfort him? Scared? Angry? Ron _had _to be there.

He sighed with relief as he entered the wing to see Harry still resting peacefully. Ron could barely believe the miraculous strength of his boyfriend that seemed to come from nowhere. That night, Ron had nearly resigned himself to Harry's terrible fate, much to his guilt. But Harry, being his wonderful self, had somehow turned the situation around, killing Voldemort, the greatest evil in the world. What boyfriend wouldn't be proud of that?

Harry's eyelids fluttered, surging hope through Ron's heart. Now if he would just open his eyes...

As if obeying the command, the fluttering flew Harry's eyes open. It took a moment before he actually focused on Ron lovingly.

"Hi," his cracked voice whispered.

Ron grinned. "Hi. How are you?"

Harry tried to sit up weakly. "Well, I'm not sure yet." Suddenly his face pinched as if he'd eaten a lemon. "Am I expelled?" he asked, panickedly, his face flushing a deep fuschia.

Harry felt as though he were having a heart attack. If we _was_ expelled and sent to Azkaban, which he should be by law, he would have to leave the place he loved... the people he loved... the only boy he'd ever loved. He didn't know if he could survive that, and definitely doubted that he could survive the dementors very long without a wand. _My life is over, _Harry thought.

His question still rang in the air, unanswered. Glancing at Ron, Harry registered his expression--surprise. The answer was so obvious, Ron was surprised that Harry would even ask. He was expelled for sure.

"You're not expelled," Ron said finally, shocking Harry out of his panic. "No way."

"I'm not?" Harry choked out.

"No."

"No Azkaban?"

"Nope." Ron sighed. "Really Harry, do you think Hogwarts would expel you for protecting yourself?" He indicated to the table beside the hospital bed. It was covered with flowers and get well cards. "Everyone loves you even more for what you did in there."

Harry shook his head, relieved but uncomprehending. "But I used an Unforgivable Curse. As in, unforgivable. Men have gone to Azkaban for less..."

"Harry," the other boy interrupted, half-smiling. "You're an even greater hero now. No one would hear of you going to that dreadful place after all that you've done. Everyone is so proud. I'm so proud," he added, wrapping his arms around Harry. He felt as though his heart might burst with happiness.

"Whew," Harry breathed into Ron's warm, sturdy shoulder. "That's a relief." He felt the tension of the last few weeks beginning to melt away just by the presence of his boyfriend's arms around his back. As Ron pulled away, Harry murmured, "Stay."

Ron's brilliant eyes met Harry's with sudden understanding. "We're not cursed anymore. We can do what we want," he whispered, his breath light on Harry's cheek.

"What _do _you want to do now?" Harry asked just as softly. His hand, without Harry telling it to, had sought out Ron's face and was tracing his strong jawline with his thumb.

Ron laughed softly. "I don't know. Let's find out," he murmured. His mouth found Harry's.

The kiss was perfect, expressing all the things they wantedd to say to each other, containing all the emotions they'd felt while they'd been cursed: all the frustration, all the passion, all the love. Harry couldn't believe how happy he was, finally kissing Ron. Ron, who knew him better than anyone, who loved him as much as Harry loved Ron. There was no one to stop them, no one to limit them or interrupt them. No more frustration.

His hand held Ron's jaw and pulled him in closer, deepening the kiss. Slowly, Ron made his way onto the hospital bed, pressing against Harry. Harry had forgotten how great it felt ot be able to do what he wanted with the person he wanted, how free he could feel in that moment, without worry of another interruption from Hermione or one of their friends.

"Um... Excuse me?"

Of course, there was Madame Pomfrey.

Both boys turned to face the nurse, separating reluctantly. She was blushing nearly as much as they were, although it seemed impossible. She looked at them both with grim determination. "I'm sorry, but you'll need to find somewhere else to do this. This is the hospital wing. Try somewhere _private?"_ Pomfrey huffed, trying not to look at them as they climbed out of the bed. "And Potter, your fly is open," she added, turning and walking away.

"Damn homophobe," Harry muttered under his breath.

Ron laughed. "It's okay. She may actually have a point."

"About what. A private place?"

"Yeah. I mean, if we went somewhere no one else went, we probably wouldn't be interrupted."

"So where do we go? The bloody Shrieking Shack?"

Ron shook his head, and his shaggy hair bobbed in the most adorable way. "Didn't 'Mione take you to Myrtle's bathroom earlier this year?"

The final assembly at the Great Hall was an excellent, if predictable event. Everyone knew that Gryffindor had the most points of all the Houses, just as usual. The only thing that was different from so many other years was the absence of Dumbledore. The room was quieter, emptier somehow. Harry, Ron, and Hermione couldn't help but glance at his empty chair sadly many times during McGonagal's speech.

Luckily, the food presented was delicious and very distracting. Once all the students were stuffed with turkey, pudding, and pumpkin joice, they found they could hardly think, much less grieve. As Hermione sat on Seamus's lap and fed him bits of whipped cream from her fingertips, she glanced at Cho, who was locked in a very intense gaze with Neville at the Gryffindor table. Apparently she'd gotten over Seamus. Hermione turned and kissed Seamus for seemed like the thousandth time that day, but it still produced a familiar, welcome tingle. She hadn't known how happy she could be with one person.

Meanwhile, Harry and Ron's laced hands were a constant reminder of the ended curse. They grinned at each other constantly and occasionally kissed softly, not caring that there were people around. They could be one of those PDA couples if they damn well pleased. This year had seemed longer than any other, but it truly had the sweetest end. No more Voldemort, and Harry and Ron were together like they'd wanted to be for so long. The Weasleys had offered to keep Harry all summer, and without Voldemort as a threat, Harry was allowed to stay there. Now he would also have a spectacular summer.

Professor Snape stared longingly at Sybyl Trelawney, her thick, round glasses glinting in the candlelight. ONlyl two days ago he'd discovered that the professor he'd once passed off as silly and overdone was a great fan of...er... herbal remedies just as he was. She'd offered him a pipe unlike any he'd ever seen before and the high they'd experienced together was enough to bond them for life. That night had been so perfect...so wondrous... Trelawney smiled at him slightly and licked her lips. Snape wondered if anyone would notice if they left the hall for twenty minutes...

And through this all, three black flags hung at the front of the hall, representing the three deaths that year. Ginny, one said, Draco, said the other, and Professor Dumbledore, the last said. The three would be missed the next year, but would always live on in the hearts of everyone who loved them.


End file.
